


Dance with the West Wind

by bookscape



Category: Buck Rogers in the 25th Century
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-16 13:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscape/pseuds/bookscape
Summary: Buck has to find a way to break the influence of the garox before it kills him and discovers the solution in a surprising place.





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I am the eagle, I live in high country  
In rocky cathedrals that reach to the sky  
I am the hawk and there's blood on my feathers  
But time is still turning they soon will be dry  
And all of those who see me, all who believe in me  
Share in the freedom I feel when I fly  


Come dance with the west wind and touch on the mountain tops  
Sail o'er the canyons and up to the stars  
And reach for the heavens and hope for the future  
And all that we can be and not what we are  


Words and music by John Denver and Mike Taylor

(“It is remarkable that an island (Rapanui or Easter) now so barren should be so rich in mystery. Judging from the number of ahu (burial platforms), the island would seem at one time to have been as thickly populated as the Tahitian or Tongan Islands.” Andersen, Johannes C. Myths and Legends of the Polynesians. 462.) 

Chapter One: 

On his first visit to Searcher two days after their arrival, Buck didn’t think he would ever make it to Dr. Goodfellow’s office. The combination birthday party and welcome home party had kept him in the rec room far longer than he was comfortable with. Finally, though, he had greeted everyone and made his excuses to get away. Wilma had wanted to accompany him; she couldn’t seem to get enough of his presence. There was something he had to do first and he had declined her offer. He couldn’t help the hurt look on her face.

When he entered the sick bay, Paulton was doing her nurse-ly duties. Crichton was there, too. 

“Where’s Dr. Goodfellow?” he asked. 

“In his office,” Paulton answered. “By the way, Captain, welcome home.”

“Thanks.” He paused. “Uh, I’m sorry, but could you two leave for a while. Something private I want to talk to Dr. Goodfellow about.”

Paulton gazed at him a moment, then nodded. “Didn’t get lunch anyway. Still refreshments from the party?”

“Yes, and thanks.” 

Paulton left. Buck turned to Crichton. “Take a hike, Crichton. Go bother Twiki.”

“Well, I never….” But the robot left.

Buck continued to the office where the old doctor worked on his computer files. When he knocked, he heard a ‘come in.’ 

Goodfellow broke out in a huge smile. “Buck, my boy. Welcome back. Welcome home.”

“Thanks, Doc. Got a question to ask you.”

“Go ahead. What is it?”

“Doc, you were able to counter the satyr effect, along with some other bugs and ailments you’ve dealt with in the past year or so.”

“Yes, that virus was tricky.”

“I assume you’ve heard of garox, right?”

The smile became a frown. “Yes, may the inventor rot in the deepest hell imaginable.”

That was a surprisingly strong epitaph for the old man. “So you don’t think you could find a cure for the addiction?”

“Oh, dear me. It isn’t that I haven’t tried in the past, but there is some property in it that has defied anything that I or anyone else can come up with.”

And with that, Buck knew his future, his decisions, his life. The very place he had dreamed of leaving for four plus months had chained him tightly and wasn’t letting go.

Apparently, his feelings must have shown. “Oh, dear. My boy, I read some of the reports. They used it down there. You….”

“Yes, Dr. Goodfellow, they did. And yes, I am. But I thank you for answering my questions. And please, doctor/patient privilege. Don’t tell anyone about our conversation. I have some decisions to make and I don’t want anyone making anything out of this.”

“No, Buck, I won’t, even though I think you need to tell Wilma and the admiral.” He laid his hand on Buck’s arm. “I’m willing to try again, though. Perhaps now…” Goodfellow added weakly. 

Buck was touched by the old doctor’s desire to help him, but he shook his head and left. 

After a few hours, Buck claimed duties of office and flew his starfighter back down to Bosk. 

======================

“Buck.” A pause. “Buck Rogers! Are you listening to me?” Wilma asked in exasperation, pulling him back from whatever reverie he had been in. 

“Sorry, Wilma,” he said penitently, but his look was still troubled. 

They were on the surface of Bosk, in a beautifully pristine wooded area not far from the mine entrance, but far enough away to try to forget the ugliness. A blanket had been spread over a sun-mottled patch of grass and they had shared a small picnic lunch. Most of their time together had been spent on the surface. Wilma had shuddered the first time she had gone down below. It didn’t surprise her that Buck had shown deep scars of his ordeal, but after ten days, she wondered just what else had gone on down there. That Buck had been singled out for extreme punishment was a given, but what? He talked about various aspects of life in the mines but was totally reticent to talk about his feelings. It seemed that only Hawk had his ear in that regard, but somehow Wilma didn’t think Buck had even opened up to Hawk. It was as though Hawk was simply around to provide some form of silent support. 

The admiral had been asking recently when Buck was going to return to duty on the Searcher. Buck had only been on the huge ship once and for only a few hours. The excuse had been viable at first. He was the leader of this new continental government and was needed on the surface. But now? The Arator Company had been taken care of, being forced to enter into a contract with the fledgling government. Barney Brock was firmly in charge of day-to-day operations, helped by the guard, Ril Mentua, and the doctor. The former guards and prisoners had chosen land or work in the mines and those who hadn’t wanted to stay or who had been too recalcitrant to remain had been sent off world. There was even the foundation of a government building being laid near the space port. 

Ardala had stayed for a few days, her outlook toward Buck seemingly different. But it was what the princess had said to her before she left that gave Wilma pause to wonder. They had been on the surface, just as she and Buck were now. The air was clean, the sky such a piercing blue-green Wilma felt she could swim in it if she could leap high enough. 

“Congratulations, Colonel. You have won,” Ardala had said. 

Wilma knew what or to whom the Draconian was referring. “My feelings for Buck aren’t part of some kind of contest, Princess,” she had responded testily. 

“Maybe not for you, but he was for me. The alternative being Kane.” 

“You mean your father would force you to marry against your will?” Wilma asked, incredulous. 

Ardala laughed. “Well, evidently not now. Father sent me a holo yesterday congratulating me on my successful endeavors. He asked me to come home and accept my position as next in line for the Draconian throne.” She smiled conspiratorially. “And there was no condition of marriage on his request, although I have never been able to completely know the mind of my father.” Her look became wistful. “But Buck has been the only man for whom I have felt anything other than loathing.” 

Wilma said nothing for a moment, then she smiled. “He does have that effect on people, doesn’t he?” 

After gazing at her for a moment, Ardala returned the smile. “Again, Colonel, my congratulations, but you have not reached the altar yet and now Captain Rogers may have an even harder journey than the one that brought him to our century.” Wilma looked quizzically at the Draconian princess, but Ardala said nothing else. She just smiled, took Wilma’s hand briefly and then walked up the ramp to her shuttle which sat nearby. Tigerman accompanied her. 

Now Wilma wondered. If anything, Buck seemed to be pulling away from her. She was confused, angry and frustrated. Something terrible; something totally ego-shattering had happened here. But what was most frustrating was that he wouldn’t open up to her, tell her what was bothering him. 

“Buck!” she said again. Wilma laid her hand on his arm as gentle reassurance and he covered her smaller hand with his own. She could feel the hard calluses, see the healing scars from manacles on his wrists, but there was something more than physical scars. After her own experience, she was well aware of that. Wilma wondered for the umpteenth time just what could have been going on besides physical abuse. “Please, Buck, let it out. Tell me what’s bothering you,” she urged, again for the umpteenth time.

“Wilma, we’ve been over this. There is nothing more I need to say.” 

He sounded a bit exasperated and she decided to back off a bit. “Well, there will be time to relax after we leave tomorrow.” 

“The Searcher is leaving tomorrow?” he asked, surprised. 

“Yes,” Wilma said with a soft smile. “If you had been on board more than once or if you checked in occasionally, you’d know.” 

Buck looked pensive and then he sighed. 

“Buck, everything is under control here. In the last week, this fledgling little country has made remarkable progress. The New United States is in good hands. Even Mrs. Brock is planning her new life here.” 

“I know. I know and I remember now. Hawk told me. It’s just that….” 

“Just what, Buck?” Now she was exasperated. 

He shook his head and looked up at the intensely bright sky. When he finally spoke, it was the last thing she expected to hear. “I’m not going with you. I’m staying here.” 

Wilma stared at him in open-mouthed shock. “What?” There was something despairingly sad in his voice. But she couldn’t overcome the hurt she felt that he wouldn’t confide in her. “Why?” she demanded. “Why this sudden reversal, Buck?” She stood up, gazing into his eyes. “You told me a few days ago that you had dreamed of me often, that you couldn’t wait to see me, to take me into your arms. What changed that? Why are you staying on this world of torture?” She knew her voice was angry; she knew she was louder than she needed to be. Buck almost seemed to flinch at the intensity of her words. 

“It’s something I can’t talk about, but it’s real and I have to stay here.” 

Wilma forced her anger under control and tried to think logically. It was hard. Something tied Buck here, something as strong as the manacles that he had once worn. She looked around. It was really a very pretty world. She could stand living here until whatever was the matter with Buck was resolved. “Then I’ll stay, too,” she said quickly and then continued before Buck had a chance to open his mouth. “Buck, I love you. I have agonized these past months and I vowed that if I ever found you again, I’d never let you go.” 

Buck shook his head. This was not going well at all. He could not tell Wilma why any discussion of any kind of future was futile. He knew, though, the moment he stepped aboard the Searcher that he could not return to the hectic type of normalcy that he had enjoyed before. He was too ashamed to even think about commanding anyone on board the large ship. What the hell was he supposed to do? But Wilma would continue to insist on knowing why he was making this decision, just as she was doing now. 

The men here accepted him even with the garox, more than he accepted it himself. Taking a deep breath, he gazed directly into Wilma’s eyes. “What I mean, is that I have to stay here a while longer. I was appointed and despite appearances, the situation is not quite ready for the president to resign,” he explained, hating himself even more for his half-truths. Wilma was right. It would be difficult, but Barney, Ril and Burrows could handle things. 

“I can wait with you, Buck and we could go back together.” 

He shook his head. “No, Wilma, you have already told me how the caves make you feel. Depressed, I think you said. I’ll be fine and I’ll call you every day.” 

“And as soon as things are in order here?” she prompted. 

“Yes,” he said before she could say anything further and he would be forced to dig his lies deeper and deeper. 

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said, kissing him gently. “And then when you’re ready, we can talk about what’s bothering you.” 

Buck sighed again. Damn! he thought, feeling that he was drowning in self-loathing as well as self-pity. “Yes,” he told her softly. 

The next day, he watched silently as Wilma’s fighter took off. Hawk was by his side. He had also opted to stay longer, presumably until Buck left. Somehow, Buck suspected that Hawk knew but so far he and the birdman had not discussed it. 

“I think it was wrong to not tell Wilma,” Hawk said simply. 

“So you know,” Buck said flatly. 

“Yes. For some time.” 

“Why tell Wilma? So she and the rest of the crew pity me? Patronize me?” 

Hawk had no answers this time, no solace for his friend. He understood only too well the patronization that Buck was talking about. At first he felt very much patronized on the Searcher by those that didn’t know him well. “You do not know that,” he replied, even though he figured he really did. “But by so saying, you demean Wilma’s ability to care and empathize.” 

“There is no way in hell I will ever marry her.” Buck took a deep breath. It caught in his throat and almost sounded like a sob. “Not now anyway. She deserves better.” 

“I do not say you should marry her, only tell her.” Hawk’s dark eyes bored deeply into his friend’s. “She trusted you enough, even when you had amnesia, to tell you what happened to her.” 

“This is different,” Buck insisted. “This is bigger than both of us. All of us.” 

“But not insurmountable.” 

“What the hell are you talking about? You figure Sky Mother can put me in one of her healing trances and the garox will disappear?”

“The healer’s art helped before, Buck, but that is not what I meant,” Hawk replied. 

“Then what?” 

“That the issue of your addiction is not insurmountable.” 

“But the addiction is insurmountable! Hawk, I’ll figure out a way to overcome this or die in the attempt,” Buck stated vehemently. “And only then will I go back to Wilma.” He turned and walked toward the mine entrance. 

Hawk watched for a few minutes and then he followed his friend into the mines.


	2. Chapter 2

Wilma ground her teeth in frustration as she got the standard response for seemingly the millionth time. Buck was busy with ‘official duties. He would call later.’ She had heard it over and over again for several days. But even before that his conversations had seemed to get vaguer and his promises less meaningful. Wilma had the sneaking suspicion that Buck had no intention of coming back at all. 

But Wilma knew there was something Buck considered so terrible that he was thrusting everyone away from him because of it. What was it? 

Twiki and Theo were investigating Arator Company’s mining practices for the Galactic Council judiciary. They had filed numerous reports. If she couldn’t get Buck to tell her, perhaps there would be clues in the reports. She didn’t have duty for another six hours. Hopefully that would be plenty of time to dig through Dr. Theopolis’ notes. 

And dig she did. Wilma was most fascinated with the transcription of one of the guards, Ril Mentua, the one who was now one of the leaders of the newly formed government. According to his deposition, new prisoners were given numbers, were under strict probationary edicts. Hmm, probation. She read the indoctrination notes, paying close attention to the use of intimidation and physical indoctrination with new prisoners. So, she thought, let’s see what this probation entailed. Almost complete isolation, she read, silence unless spoken to, strict regimen. Wilma winced. She knew that had to have been extremely hard on Buck and Hawk, both being the free and independent spirits they were. But Hawk had seemed to be recovering from his ordeal well. Whatever it was had to have combined with the already harsh treatment to push Buck beyond a quick recovery. It had to have happened after the escape attempt. Buck had said very little about that time except to explain how he and his companions had taken over the mines and formed their new government. 

Wilma read on, taking in the details of day-to-day life in the mines. There were forerunners, gatherers and loaders among the prisoners. She read what each did. Wilma thought she remembered Hawk saying they had been forerunners. The doctor’s report was next and she read that one with rapt attention as well. He had decried the sadistic form of medical treatment to get rid of a parasite that seemed to plague about one half of the prison population. Of several treatments, the one chosen by the company was something called garox. Wilma frowned. She knew about it. Garox was relatively inexpensive for the company to obtain, and it not only killed the parasite but it was believed by the mine officials to be a great method of controlling the prisoners due to its highly addictive nature. 

It was interesting that no one had a very clear idea of where the drug had come from. That the company was using garox, knowing of its addictive nature was more than enough to bring Arator up on charges. It was cruel and horrible, she thought. 

Then a cold chill went up and down her spine. Hawk had said something about Buck being too sick with some kind of parasite to escape with him. Buck had been a forerunner, one of the groups most susceptible to the parasitic condition. So terrible was the revelation that she felt sick to her stomach and had to take a moment to calm herself. It was no wonder he was reluctant to come back and was pushing her aside. He was garox addicted. Now she understood everything, and understanding, wept hot, bitter tears of disappointment and despair. 

========================

Buck felt the first gnawings of the garox craving and cursed silently. It seemed to come earlier, hit more intensely and leave him less time to feel normal. Damn Beros. Damn Bosk! Damn Kormand. Damn them all! He couldn’t tell Wilma. For the last two days, she had been asking when he was returning to the Searcher. He had tried; several times during their communications he had tried. He could never bring himself to say the words; ‘I am addicted to garox.’ Gazing at the stone walls that were his apartment, he felt he was still in a prison, even though the door was open. He was free. He could leave any time and return to the _Searcher_. She had no idea how repugnant that idea was to him right now. “Dammit!” he cried out to the gray stone. __

_ __ _

__

“What is it, Buck?” Hawk asked from the doorway. 

Buck jumped, startled by the silent approach. He was going to have to learn to shut the door when he was throwing a pity party in the future. 

“I am sorry if I startled you, but you sound upset.” Hawk studied him from the doorway. 

“No kidding.” 

“You want me to close the door?” Hawk asked.  


“Yes.”

“With me in or out,” Hawk asked with a slight smile. 

“In, Hawk,” Buck he sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like you were unwelcome.”

“Buck, there are times when even the closest friends may be unwelcome to one another. There is nothing wrong with that.” 

“Yeah, I know, but I think part of my problem is that I have made everyone unwelcome--all the time,” Buck replied softly. 

“Has this to do with Wilma?”

“For someone who once professed to hate humans, you’re a pretty good judge of them,” he said with a humorless smile.

“I am a pretty good judge of you, Buck. We have both been through what you would call Hell and back, especially you. Nothing can be the same again. At least for a very long time.” 

“Yeah, it has to do with Wilma,” Buck murmured. He paced the small apartment and then sat down on his bed, indicating the chair for Hawk. He gazed intently at the birdman. “I can’t tell her, Hawk. I tried, just like you and Dr. Burrows have suggested, but I simply can’t tell her.” 

Hawk didn’t have an answer to Buck’s concerns, because although he knew Wilma Deering fairly well, Hawk was sure the garox would affect all aspects of their relationship. But he had kept that to himself. “You doubt she would understand?” 

“Maybe. No. Yes! But I don’t think I could stand her solicitude, her pity.” 

Hawk said nothing for a moment. “What do you intend to do?” 

Sighing, Buck looked at the rough ceiling. “I don’t know. I do know that I can’t live this way.” 

Hawk’s dark eyes showed profound concern. He recognized the signs of deep depression. He had dealt with such things himself. He wondered if Buck, like he had after Koori’s death, was contemplating suicide. “I understand that there are ways to adapt to the garox,” he offered hopefully, knowing at the same time that his friend would probably never get used to this. 

Buck laughed bitterly. “I don’t think I could ever adapt.” 

“But no one has ever broken the addiction, Buck.” 

“There has to be a way! There simply has to be.” 

“No one knows who invented garox,” Hawk added, wishing he could give hope to his friend. 

“Someone who hated humans,” the terran answered dryly. 

“You are probably right. Do you think the doctors could help you on Cronis or Earth?” 

Buck shook his head. “No, not on Cronis. I don’t know about Earth. I doubt it.” 

“I do think you underestimate Wilma.” 

Frowning, Buck stood up and began pacing. His hands were trembling. Hells bells! He paced and then stopped, his head bowed. “It’s me, Hawk. Not her. I can’t live with myself like this. How can I ask her to understand what I can’t tolerate? She thinks I’m going to saunter on back to the Searcher and life will be normal again. It won’t ever be normal! I don’t want to go to the Searcher and have everyone look at me as the garox addicted exo.” He laughed bitterly. “But it’s the ability to do the job. I can’t do the job. Not the way garox affects my body, my mind. I can’t live my life.” 

“What can I do to help?” 

“There’s nothing you can do to help,” Buck snapped. He stopped pacing and gazed at Hawk. “I’m sorry, Hawk. I didn’t mean to bite your head off. I have to think,” Buck said.

“I understand. But do not stay alone for long. By the way, Wilma contacted me a little while ago asking for you. Apparently you haven’t answered her communications for the past day.” 

“I know. If she calls again before I get back with her, tell her I’m busy.” Buck smiled. “It won’t be a lie. I am busy—busy wallowing in self-pity.” 

Hawk nodded as he turned to leave. Before he left, he laid his hand on Buck’s arm. Neither of them said anything for a moment. There was only the unspoken communication of friendship. 

“Leave the door open, please, Hawk.” 

“Of course.” 

Once Hawk had left, Buck began pacing again. He couldn’t stay cloistered here. In that Hawk was right. He couldn’t bring himself to go back to the Searcher, though. Nor did he want to go to Cronis. Would Dr. Huer have any clues as to how to break this? Buck knew that he would at least try. And that was the important thing. Trying. If necessary, Buck would die trying. He certainly couldn’t live with the reality of ‘now.’ With a grim smile, Buck strode out of his apartment and to the dispensary where the doctor had his dose ready. Hating himself, even as he eagerly anticipated the fix, he let Burrows give him the garox. Rolling down his sleeve, Buck smiled softly. “Thanks, doc. If I find a cure for this, I will happily put you out of business.” 

“And I will happily let you,” Burrows replied. “So you are leaving us?” 

“Am I that transparent?”

“Most of the time you have been, but yes, I got the resignation just a few seconds before you walked in here. 

“You, Barney, and Ril can handle this place. I am just the figurehead. I have to try to kick this thing.” 

“Any ideas where you’re going?” 

“Yes, but I haven’t made a final decision,” Buck said. He really did have a pretty definite idea of his destination, but if he kept it to himself, he wouldn’t have Wilma and Hawk and others following him, watching him go through withdrawals. 

Burrows looked at him with understanding eyes. “And if anyone can do it, I imagine it’ll be you.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Good luck, Mr. President.” 

“Thanks, Cole,” Buck said, shaking his head. He couldn’t get used to being called that. Well, it wouldn’t matter that much. Barney would have that job within the hour.

Buck strode to the elevators and rode them to the warehouse turned hangar. A starfighter stood ready and waiting. He walked up to it and checked it out. It had been fueled and was ready to go. 

“Hey, Buck!” 

Again, Buck was startled. This time it was Twiki. He turned and greeted the quad. “Hi, guys,” he said, seeing Theo around Twiki’s neck. “I thought you were on the _Searcher_.” __

_ _“Hello, Mr. President,” Theo said, his lights blinking merrily at the chance meeting. “We were finishing up the review of records before returning to Searcher. Since you had the starfighter, we were going to ask you for a ride.” He had been frustrated trying to arrange a time to see his friend. _ _

_ _“Now don’t you start that, Theo,” Buck said with a slight grin. “That is a temporary title and you know it. I hope you two have found what you are looking for.” _ _

_ _“Indeed we have. Even without what we have found out today, there was sufficient evidence of misconduct in several operations of this mining facility. Are you planning on returning to the Searcher now?” Theo asked, changing the subject. “If so, I can download today’s information when we get there.” _ _

_ _“No. Do you two want to accompany me on a bit of a longer trip? Or do you need to stay and find more facts?” _ _

_ _“I want to go, Buck!” Twiki said exuberantly. _ _

_ _“As I said, we have found ample information for the Galactic Council to work with. Where did you have in mind to go, Captain?” Theo asked. _ _

_ _“I’ll tell you when we’re space borne.” _ _

_ _Theo sensed something important, but he trusted Buck and knew the terran wouldn’t do anything deliberate that would put them in harm’s way. “Very well, Buck. I would like to go, too.” _ _

_ _“Good. Let’s go, gentlemen.” _ _

_ _“Right now?” Theo asked. _ _

_ _“Yes, now. You coming or not?” _ _

_ _“I am,” Twiki piped up. _ _

_ _Buck bent down and lifted the quad to the wing of the starfighter. Twiki toddled over to the cockpit and climbed down into the back seat as Buck got up on the wing. _ _

_ _“Headed for a ride, Mr. President?” a technician asked. _ _

_ _“Yes, I am. Been a while.” _ _

_ _“Have fun, sir.” _ _

_ _Soon they were speeding out into depths of the Bosk system toward the stargate. Buck lay in the coordinates that he knew would take him to Earth. It would take several jumps, but that would give him time to think. _ _

_ _“Now can you tell us where you are going?” Theo asked. _ _

_ _“In a minute,” he answered tersely. _ _

_ _The stargate loomed in front of them, flashed brightly and they were through. “We’re going to Earth.” _ _

_ _“Earth?” Twiki and Theo echoed. _ _

_ _“Yeah. I want to see Dr. Huer.” _ _

_ _“Oh.” Twiki replied, as though he understood everything. He didn’t. _ _

_ _“Why, Buck? If I may ask, that is,” Theo asked. _ _

_ _“Of course you may ask, Theo. I dragged you along, after all.” _ _

_ _“We both came willingly, Captain. We trust you implicitly.” Twiki echoed Dr. Theopolis’ sentiment. _ _

_ _“Thanks, guys,” Buck said and did some more calculations that would ready them for the next stargate. Then he sat back. “You two familiar with garox?” _ _

_ _“Yes, Buck. It is a highly addictive and ultimately deadly substance. We included Arator Company’s use of it in the mines in one of our reports.” _ _

_ _“Good. And you have described it in a nutshell.” He paused and took a deep breath. _ _

_ _“Buck. You needn’t go any further,” Theo said. “It was all in the reports.”_ _

_ _“Well, I don’t understand,” Twiki grumbled. “What’s up?”_ _

_ _This wasn’t easy to admit even to a quad. But then these weren’t ordinary quads, they were his friends, too. He plunged on. “I took my last dose a couple of hours ago, Twiki.” _ _

_ _Twiki was stunned into total and absolute silence. _ _

_ _

_ _ ==========================_ _

_ _

_ _Hawk went topside, pondering, wishing he had a solution for his friend. He had not felt this helpless since Koori’s death. Gazing toward the distant mountains, he felt their pull and he began walking. Hawk trod the same path he and Buck and Tigerman had walked two months ago. Near the mountains, Hawk stopped, still thinking and just watching the sky. He smelled the freshness of the mountain air, the sharp tang of the verdant vegetation. Even the rocks had a sharp metallic sun-heated smell. The blue-green-steel colored sky stretched like a bowl overhead. _ _

_ _A cooler breeze ruffled Hawk’s head feathers. It was the precursor of a wind that blew down from the peaks above to the valley that spread before him. Feeling the urge to follow the cool breeze to its source, he climbed, his gauntleted fingers finding hand-holds with the surety of much practice. It was almost like being back on Throm, back before the destruction of his people and the death of Koori. _ _

_ _Hawk continued climbing and finally reached the peak. He sat quietly, enjoying the fierce wind pluck at him. A high-pitched whine caused him to look up and Hawk saw a starfighter passing overhead. _ _

_ _The plateau where he, Buck, and Tigerman had separated lay below him and he remembered that horrible time. Hawk also remembered how Buck had had temporary respite from the withdrawals when he used some of the techniques Sky Mother had taught him. _ _

_ _Could Sky Mother help Buck? They had talked about and dismissed that idea earlier, why, he didn’t know. It made so much sense now. Would she come to Bosk? That her skills in healing and focusing were so much better than his was an understatement. He was sure he could talk her into coming to Bosk. Or better yet, perhaps Buck would go to Mendalis. Hawk began to feel hope. _ _

_ _Hawk started back down the path. Carefully he stepped down the rock ledges until he reached the path that led to the wooded valley. Eager to tell Buck his plan, Hawk quickened his pace. Then he remembered the starfighter he had caught a glimpse of earlier in the day. Most interstellar flights were from the spaceport. Only one man had a starfighter here. Buck. Wilma had left it here for him for when he decided to go back to the Searcher. There had barely been room for it in the warehouse building. Workers were in the process of building a landing field, but it was some weeks off. So when he had come, even Hawk had come to the mine in a sub-atmospheric shuttlecraft._ _


	3. Chapter 3

Wilma gathered the small carryall that contained a couple of changes of clothing and her personal items and walked out of her cabin. She turned and looked back, wondering when she would return. Then with a shrug, she walked out of the room, her slender fingers brushing the light switch. The lights dimmed with a finality that was sad, but she had no intention of staying on this ship when she was needed elsewhere. Wherever Buck chose to stay, there she would stay also. As long as she was with him and as long as he had left to live. 

Seeing a lower ranking tech, she stopped him. “Take this to my starfighter, please.” He nodded and took her carryall. Wilma continued to the bridge. When she walked through the sliding doors, she received a couple of surprised looks as it was still four hours before her next shift. “Admiral, may I see you privately, please?” 

He paused a moment before nodding. Getting up, he preceded Wilma to his ready room, where he motioned her to sit down. 

Shaking her head, Wilma got right to the point. “I am requesting an extended leave of absence.” 

The admiral didn’t look surprised. “Can I assume it has to do with Buck?” 

“Yes, sir. I know why he seemed so changed and why he was uncomfortable on board the _Searcher_.” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“As do I. I have kept up with the reports and I also got this an hour ago.” Asimov tossed a printout on the table. 

Wilma picked it up and read it. There wasn’t much to read. It was Buck’s resignation. She sighed and laid it back down. “No surprise there.” 

“Same here, now that I know,” he said tersely. “Damn! You do realize that I am obligated to accept this.”

She nodded.

“But I am busy and am going to leave it in my drawer until I’m not busy.” He smiled, but it was without any pleasure. “And if something happens to Buck before I get around to accepting his resignation, then he will have still been in the service of the Directorate. With full honors.”

Wilma blinked away tears, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Accept that from Wilma, Buck’s friend, not Wilma, the second in command.”

This time Asimov nodded. “Take all the time you need, Wilma. And please tell Buck we miss him.” 

“I will.” 

“And I at least expect to see you at the trial,” he added. “We have to put that slimy viper of Kinset away!”

Wilma had forgotten Erik Kormand’s trial, but she nodded. She suspected that Buck had forgotten as well, not that it mattered right now. 

=====================

Dr. Huer gazed at the incoming information with deep interest. The last communiqué he had received from Wilma said that Buck had been found and the former mining colony where he had been incarcerated was now recognized as an autonomous country. Now he was getting a direct request from Buck for landing privileges in the directorate hanger? Curiosity overwhelmed him. He knew, from his informant’s messages, that this had been the foulest prison/mining business in the known galaxy and he was eager to hear from Buck, himself, what it had been like. Somehow, though, he suspected that the young man’s reasoning for coming to Earth had to be more than to sit and chat with him. 

He punched a button. “Direct communication with Captain Rogers, please,” he ordered. The vid-link was quickly established. “Hello, Buck. This is surely a pleasant surprise. Of course you can land in the directorate hanger and you will come and see me immediately, won’t you? For dinner, of course, and drinks.” 

“Of course, Doc. I wanted to specifically see you anyway.” 

Although he wanted to ask questions now, Huer knew Buck would give him the reason for the visit in the privacy of his apartment. He punched another button and ordered some synthahol replication of a wine that Buck called Chardonnay. It was something he had worked on and been able to somewhat duplicate on Buck’s last visit to Earth. At least Buck had been pleased then. Hopefully, it would still be pleasant for him now. 

Then he left his office, wanting to be home in time to properly greet Buck. He missed the young man fiercely at times, just as he missed Wilma. They had become more than close co-workers, they were like family and their departure on the _Searcher_ had left a large void in his life . . . and in his heart. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Huer ordered up a dish that he thought Buck would like, picked up a few things he had left lying around his apartment when he had gone to his office that morning and then sat and waited. He had not seen Buck or Wilma since the attempted Lagrithian plague and had only heard from others’ communiqués what had been happening to them since that time. Some of those communications had disturbed him. The vid-link had shown him someone who appeared much more careworn. Someone sad. Despite that, though, it would be good to see Buck and it would be good to talk with him. 

Within a few minutes, the door sounded Buck’s arrival. “Enter,” Huer called out. The door swished open and Buck strode in, Twiki with Dr. Theopolis on his neck right behind him. He stood up and shook Buck’s hand, then enveloped him in a fatherly embrace. He pulled back and smiled. “Good to see you again, Buck,” he said exuberantly. “But you didn’t bring Wilma.”

A quick frown passed across Buck’s features and Huer wondered if something had happened between the two. “Not this time, Doc,” Buck finally said, his voice somewhat monotone. 

“Uh, I wasn’t trying to be presumptuous,” Huer said awkwardly. The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Finally, he turned to Twiki and Theo. “I didn’t know you two were coming, as well.” 

“Captain Rogers invited us to accompany him on his visit,” Theo answered. Twiki was uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Glad you could all make it,” Huer replied. He rubbed his hands together, nervous and feeling that there was something Buck was waiting to tell him. Usually the younger man was quick and to the point, but what he had on his mind now was obviously something that made him uncomfortable. “Well, why don’t we talk over dinner? It should be ready now.” 

“Sounds like a plan, Doc.” 

Huer invited Buck to sit at his dining table while he pulled the dinners out of the servo compartment. Then he brought the glasses and syntha-wine. “Would you pour the drinks, Buck?” 

“Sure, Dr. Huer,” he said, opening the bottle and pouring a liberal amount in each glass. He raised his glass. “Here’s to the end of slavery, drug trafficking and bigotry,” he said. 

“Amen,” Huer answered and took a drink. The two men ate in silence for a bit, savoring the flavor of the foods, colorfully arrayed on the two plates. 

Finally, Huer could stand it no more. “Buck, if I said anything out of line about you and Wilma, I apologize.” 

“Me and Wilma?” Buck looked puzzled, then comprehension dawned. “Oh, I see. No, you didn’t say anything out of line.” 

“But I feel that something’s wrong,” Huer said. There was something wrong. 

“I assume you have received communiqués from the Searcher,” Buck questioned. 

“Yes, periodically, but nothing of a personal nature.” He paused a beat. “I do know that both you and Wilma went through a horrendous experience on Mendalis, and I was informed of yours and Hawk’s kidnapping. Did you come here for some relaxation?” 

Buck drank his glass of syntha-wine. He gazed at the glass for a moment. “Your synthahol makers are getting better,” he said, avoiding the question for the moment. He poured another one and drank it in two gulps. Then he sighed, his demeanor deadly serious. “If you are wondering if there is something wrong between me and Wilma, there is. But it’s not what you think.” He poured another glass and wished it were the real thing. “The feelings are still there; it’s just the circumstances that have changed.” 

“What do you mean, Buck?” Huer suddenly remembered his own son’s pain when he was trying to deal with a crisis in his life. It had been hard for Chris to open up and explain how he felt. And the doctor realized that his feelings for Buck were much the same as his feelings for his own children. His concern grew. 

“I wish to hell I was here for relaxation,” Buck suddenly burst out bitterly. He got up, the remainder of his meal forgotten, and began to pace. He stopped in front of an ivory-textured sculpture and gently touched its softly glowing surface. “I . . . uh, Doc….” 

“What is it, Buck?” Huer asked, joining the younger man. His hand rested reassuringly on Buck’s shoulder. At his touch, Buck sucked in a sobbing breath, continuing to stroke the sculpture. The doctor was alarmed to see tears tracking down Buck’s cheeks. “Please, Buck, what is the matter? What can I do to help?” 

Buck knew then that he had come back to Earth to die. There was nothing that could save him. He only wanted to die with as much dignity as he could and that included Wilma not being here with him. He wiped his sleeve across his face. “I don’t want you to tell Wilma that I am here.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because I don’t want her to watch me die.” 

“What? What are you talking about?” Huer asked. His hand still rested on Buck’s arm, firm and reassuring. “I think you had better tell me the whole story. Please, come sit down.” 

Buck nodded and followed the older man to a bright blue couch. He sat down, but didn’t say anything. 

“What happened on Bosk, Buck?” 

Sucking in a shuddering breath, Buck began, leaving out little. When he finished, he gazed meaningfully at the Directorate leader. “Now do you know why I wanted to come here alone?” 

“Yes, I do,” Huer answered softly, his heart breaking at Buck’s news. “But we need to try to do something. The Directorate has some of the best scientists and doctors in the galaxy. Several have been working on various addictive substances lately with very promising results.” 

“I’m not taking any more garox,” Buck insisted. He gazed at his hands. They were trembling slightly, but it was more from nerves than the garox. Now. 

“Before you totally decide that, will you talk to them?” 

There was a slight bit of hesitation. “Yes.” 

“And Buck?” 

The young man looked at him, the eyes filled with deep sadness. “Yes?” 

“Thank you.” 

Now the sadness changed to puzzlement. “What for?” 

“For coming to me with this. I know it had to be very difficult.” 

Buck heaved a sigh. “I thought that if anyone could help, it would be you.” He paused. “And something inside said you would understand.” He got up and poured himself another drink. While his back was turned, he added, “You are a closest thing I have to a father now. And in some ways, I feel even closer to you than I did my own father.” 

Huer had to blink to keep his own tears in check. This was not the time for raw emotion. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Buck, because I have considered you more like a son than a colleague for quite a while.” 

Buck turned and smiled, raising his glass, “To fathers,” he said softly. 

Huer raised his and said, “To sons.” They both finished their drinks. 

==============

Dr. Carlock gazed intently at the directorate pilot sitting across from him. Like many who worked for the Directorate, he had heard of Buck Rogers, and like many of the doctors in New Chicago, he had wanted to meet him. But he had not wanted to meet the captain under these circumstances. “Captain, you are putting great restraints on my ability to find something to break the garox,” he said bluntly. 

Buck shook his head. “Do a continued study on Bosk, Doctor.” He leaned forward. “I am not taking any more garox.” 

“Do you realize just what is in store for you?” Carlock asked, his only desire to save the young man across from him from needless pain and suffering. 

Buck took a ragged breath. Suddenly Carlock realized that Rogers knew exactly what he was in for. “I’m sorry….” 

“Doc, I almost died once when I went without the garox and Beros made sure I understood just what power he had over me from that point on.” Buck closed his eyes, and remembered all the evenings Beros had summoned him into his office just so he could watch the terran writhe in pain. Buck remembered only the generalities of the sessions; the intense pain, his attempts at some semblance of control, Beros’ taunts and rage. His only salvation from insanity had been Dr. Burrows and Buck was intensely grateful for that. 

“Captain Rogers,” Carlock said softly, breaking into Buck’s painful reverie. 

Buck opened his eyes. “Sorry, Doctor. I was remembering just how much I do know what I have to look forward to.” 

Carlock nodded. “I think we could get a better idea of how the garox works, the exact chemical changes in your body if we could continue to administer the doses for at least a few days. And it would give us more time to save you,” Carlock said, and then continued when he saw Buck’s frown. “But I will not force the issue. We will simply do the best we can.” 

“You have about eighteen hours to save me, Doc, and then I will be beyond anything the garox can do to me.” The voice sounded light, but the eyes were sad, like one who hoped, but felt there was little to hope for. 

Carlock nodded. “I have several therapies, Captain, on how to deal with this.” 

“Buck, please. If you’re going to try and save my hide, then call me by my first name.” 

Smiling, Carlock nodded and then continued. “Results from my studies indicate that the garox not only infuses all parts of the body, but seems to have a particular effect on the nervous system. It sends messages to the brain, false messages.” 

“I would assume that is why I feel like I’m in an oven when I miss a dose,” Buck said. 

“Yes, and all the other painful sensations.”

“I have about eight, maybe ten waking hours of what you would call normal continuity. The rest of the time I am either thinking about the next dose or trying to control the physical manifestations.” Buck paused, gazing meaningfully at Dr. Huer as well as Dr. Carlock. “And it’s getting worse.” 

“Yes, it does that. In order to keep you alive long enough to break this addiction, we’re going to do two things that I haven’t tried before,” Carlock said. 

“What have you got in mind, Doc?” Buck asked, curious and yet dreading what was to come. 

“When you get to the point where you can’t control the withdrawals we are going to block the neurological impulses to the brain. We are also going to use sensory technology to help you cope with the psychological aspects.” 

“Whoa! Back up,” Buck said. “What’s this about blocking neurological impulses?” 

“We will put a temporary neural block at the base of your neck. You will feel nothing and your brain will get fewer messages from the garox, including much of the pain.” 

“Paralyzed?” 

“Yes, but it might allow us extra time to find the key to breaking this addiction.” 

Nodding, Buck agreed. “If you need to get a blood sample, do it now, because I want a few minutes outside of this facility to, uh, think.” 

Carlock sighed. “I’ll do my best, Captain. But again, you aren’t making this any easier on us.” 

Buck laughed, but it wasn’t happy laughter. 

Later he and Dr. Huer were walking along the skywalk of the inner city looking over the dazzling heights that had so amazed Buck after his awakening. 

“Buck, earlier you told me that you considered me like a father to you,” Huer said. 

“Yes,” Buck said, studying his older companion. “And I meant it.” 

“Then I hope you will take my fatherly advice in the spirit it is being given.” 

Buck said nothing. He just looked over the railing at the city and then nodded. 

“You are giving up, Buck,” Huer said bluntly. 

“Giving up what? The garox?” Buck shot back. 

“You are not giving Dr. Carlock and his team the time they need to fight and beat this,” the older man said. 

“You mean by not taking any more doses?” Buck asked. He thought briefly and then shuddered. “I can’t, Doc. I simply can’t take more.” He turned to the Directorate leader. “You have to understand. Every time I take a dose, I hate myself more. I feel weaker, less able to resist it. And no one has given me any reason to think that continuing to take the garox will suddenly break it.” He turned back to the skyline. “Please don’t ask me to take more garox,” he added softly. “I would rather die jumping off this balcony than going through the withdrawals one more time, but that much I’ll do to help the doctors.” He paused. He looked at his hands and saw the trembling that preceded his next dose and felt the cravings intensify. He pushed it aside, determined to enjoy at least a small amount of time he felt was left to him. Somehow, it didn’t seem like it had been long enough. 

Huer sighed. “I won’t, Buck, but please think about it.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

When he began feeling hot, despite the cool breeze, Buck turned back to the medical facility. “Guess I’m keeping Dr. Carlock from his job.”

Dr. Huer looked at him with concern. “Is it starting?” 

“Yeah, but I can hold off the drastic measure for a while,” Buck said, opening his collar. Even the cool breeze felt like Vegas in July. He ignored it, reminding himself for the hundredth time that it was simply a physical stimulus of his garox affected brain. 

In the medical facility, the doctors began hooking him up to numerous diagnostic devices. Carlock ran several checks and took some more blood. “How uncomfortable is it?” 

“Uncomfortable enough, Doctor, but don’t do your voodoo until I pass out.” 

“Voodoo?”

Buck just shook his head and concentrated on maintaining his decorum, his equilibrium and his lunch, not necessarily in that order. He watched the doctors in the room as his body kept telling him of heat and pain. Finally, it told him more than he could bear and Buck felt blackness overtake him.


	4. Chapter 4

Hawk’s pace quickened to a run. When he finally reached the hangar, he stopped the first worker he saw. “A starfighter left earlier today. Was it Captain Rogers?” 

“Yessir. He had the two quads with him.” 

Twiki and Dr. Theopolis. Hawk felt reassured that Buck had not left to end his life, but still he wondered what was on his friend’s mind. “Did he say where he was going?” 

“No, sir. Coach left quickly and didn’t say much. I didn’t ask.” 

Hawk nodded. “Thank you.” Not sure of the timing of Buck’s next dosage, he went down to the doctor’s office. On the way he observed more of the activity that indicated men preparing to leave the mines to live on the surface. The doctor was attending a former prisoner. Hawk waited without saying anything. 

When the man had left, Dr. Burrows looked up. “Hawk?” 

The birdman nodded. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to talk to you since your return.” He smiled. “I definitely think the wardrobe change is an improvement.” 

Hawk knew the human was doing what Wilma had called good-humored bantering, but he was not in the mood to banter. “It is my armor of rank,” he said evenly. 

“It is very striking.” Dr. Burrows paused briefly. “But you didn’t come down here to discuss your wardrobe, I suppose.” 

“No, I did not,” Hawk said. 

“You are here to talk about Captain Rogers.” 

“Yes, he has left.” Hawk was pleasantly surprised at the human’s perceptiveness. But then he thought of his friends on the Searcher. Most of them were, too. 

“I knew he was going to leave,” Burrows said. “He gave me this.” He handed Hawk a paper. 

Hawk read it quickly; totally unsurprised that it was Buck’s resignation from the Bosk leadership. He nodded. “I am worried about him.” 

“Yes, I know the garox is a source of great psychological pain to him,” Burrows said sadly. “Even more than most men.” 

“I fear he will eventually consider suicide if he cannot find a way to break the addiction.” 

“He indicated that I had given him his last dosage,” Burrows said. “I remember giving the first dosage. I remember giving all the prisoners their first dosage. It haunts my nights.” 

“Did he say where he was going?” Hawk asked, not wishing at the moment to get into a discussion of the doctor’s guilt. “I believe I know of a way to help him.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Very much so. But I need to know where he went.” 

“We talked about doctors on Cronis and Earth. Buck seemed to dismiss both,” Burrows replied. “But he didn’t quite sound like someone who was ready to fly into a sun.” Burrows paused in thought. “He did say he had something in mind, but he didn’t want to tell me.” He gazed up at Hawk. “He knows what it’s like during garox withdrawals. Beros made sure of that. I don’t think he wanted any of his close friends to see him that way.” 

Hawk nodded. “Thank you,” he said and turned to leave. 

“Good luck, Hawk. I would really like to see you and Buck succeed.” 

Hawk headed toward the surface, still considering where Buck might have gone. While going to the _Searcher_ would be a logical choice, Hawk decided that Buck most likely didn’t go there. He had felt very uncomfortable during that short time he had visited before. Buck was simply too close to everyone there, especially Wilma. Also Buck was not totally logical at this time. Buck had dismissed Earth and Cronis, but had he totally? Cronis, yes. But Earth? Buck had a great affinity for Dr. Huer and trusted him implicitly. When he reached topside, Hawk went directly to the communications center. __

_ __ _

“I would like to speak with Dr. Huer of the Earth Defense Directorate,” he requested. 

“I don’t think I can reach Earth with this set up, sir,” the technician said. “But I’ll try.” Within a few minutes the young man looked up and shook his head. “The garbage that they set up here was only meant to reach the space port and the other continent. We haven’t received our new communications equipment yet, even though we’ve been told it’s on its way.” 

Hawk left to find the shuttle pilot. Soon the sub-atmospheric transport was winging toward the spaceport. He chafed at the delay, but knowing there was nothing he could do about it, leaned back and rested. The flight would be short and he would soon be in his own fighter. 

Within an hour he was space borne, heading toward Earth, sure that Buck had gone there. Once through the first stargate, Hawk turned on the communicator trying to reach Dr. Huer. He, like the tech on Bosk, was unsuccessful. Hawk continued. When he went through another stargate, he tried again. This time he was successful. “It is very important that I contact Captain Rogers or Dr. Huer,” he insisted as he flew closer to the blue, brown and green orb. 

“Captain Rogers is unavailable and Dr. Huer is not answering communications,” came the answer. 

Hawk frowned but persisted. “Contact Dr. Huer and tell him that Hawk has important information for Buck Rogers.” 

When Hawk landed, a young medical technician greeted him. “Dr. Huer asked me to meet you.” 

Hawk simply nodded and followed the young man down several corridors and into what appeared to be a medical wing. Dr. Huer greeted him, shaking his hand cordially, but his face was drawn, his eyes worried. Without a word, he pointed to a window and there Hawk saw Buck in a bed in the next room, only semi-conscious, his face flushed and covered with sweat, his features contorted in pain. Hawk realized he would not be able to take Buck to Mendalis. “May I speak to Buck? It’s very important.”

“Yes, of course,” Huer said. 

A doctor was in attendance when he entered, placing some sort of device on the back of Buck’s neck. “You are Hawk,” he said when finished. 

“Yes.” He stepped closer to the bed. “Buck, can you hear me? You must listen to me. Concentrate on what I’m saying.”

“Won’t work this time, Hawk,” Buck said, opening his eyes. He appeared a bit more relaxed than he had when Hawk saw him through the window. He glanced at the doctor. 

“A device to limit neural impulses to Captain Rogers’ brain. Pain messages mainly.”

Hawk nodded. “Buck, listen to me. You must give me time to bring Sky Mother.”

Buck shook his head. “No. Won’t take the garox.” He closed his eyes again. 

“Buck, you told me you would try anything to break this. Then you could return to Wilma. It sounded like a promise to me.”

Buck shook his head.

“You are the stubbornest human I have ever met.”

“You are the stubbornest birdman . . . I have ever met. How can Sky Mother…?”

“Maybe she can’t, but I believe she can and I will do anything for you to be free of that damned garox.”

Buck came back to full lucidity with a slight smile. “You’ve been around me too long. You? Swearing?”

“It is damnable.” Only the sound of the machines could be heard. Dr. Huer and the other doctor seemed to be holding their breath. “So you are going to turn away a chance of a cure? Sky Mother has helped you before.”

“No, but if she won’t come, then all bets are off.”

“Fair enough. You will give me that chance?”

“Yes.” He turned to his doctor. “All right, Doctor Carlock, I’ll take another dose. I’ll wait until Hawk comes back.” 

“I will return as soon as possible, my friend.”

“_Maleo Make-Make atui_,” Buck murmured.__

_ __ _

“_Te mano_,” Hawk replied. At Buck’s surprised reaction, he gave his friend a thumb’s up and left. __

_ __ _

“What was that about?” Dr. Huer asked. 

“I wished him God-speed and he thanked me,” Buck replied, still astonished at Hawk’s use of the honorific form. He could feel the garox surging through his veins with the same relentless good/bad feelings that went with it. “So what do I do while I wait?”

Carlock took off the neural collar. “You relax. I will take readings. We are running tests as we speak.”

“Excuse me for a moment,” Dr. Huer started out of the room, then he laid his hand on Buck’s arm. “Thank you, Buck.”

“What for?”

“For not giving up.” Then Dr. Huer was gone.

Buck sighed and gazed at the ceiling. He had not changed his mind, but if there was a chance…. “This is going to be a long wait in an uncomfortable bed.”

“Would you like a portable vid?”

“No, I kind of like the old-fashioned entertainment, like books.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I understand you like old music, too.”

“Not old, my time.”  


“Buck, I will visit Dr. Junius myself.” There was a pause. “I don’t know why I am so optimistic, but I am. Your friend may have the angle that has been lacking in this damnable mystery. I’ll be right back. As you know, there will be technicians and doctors in and out, so be gentle with them.”

“Sure, Doctor.” A small part of him gloried in another day, but the other part…. Despite feeling better, Buck dozed off. And woke to someone’s hand resting on his. Opening his eyes, he was shocked to see Wilma standing next to the bed. 

“Did you think you could keep me away, Buck Rogers?” There were unshed tears in her eyes that were threatening to spill. 

Buck reached up and wiped away the one that did escape. “I didn’t want you to see this. To see what the damned drug is doing to me. To see me die.” 

“Buck, I want to be here when you are cured.”

“Well, I can’t help but be glad you are here, even though I made Dr. Huer promise not to tell you.”

Wilma laughed and lightly cuffed him in the arm. “First of all, Dr. Huer said he never promised. You just asked. Second of all, I figured it out and got here as soon as I could. You know I wouldn’t stay away.”

Buck recalled the afternoon with Dr. Huer and realized Wilma was right. “Uh, what did the admiral say when you left?”

“Oh, his reaction to your resignation?”

“Yeah.”

“He told me to tell you to get well soon.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “Is it possible to raise up the head of this bed?” he asked a med tech. She complied, checked a chirping machine and then left. “Still warm in here.”

Wilma thought Buck looked a little flushed. She reached over and felt his forehead. It was warm. 

“You know, one of the very first memories I have was my mother sitting with me when I had the chicken pox,” Buck said. Right now, he felt everything in his mind working pretty much the way it should. “She would feel my forehead just like you did, read stories to me, bring me 7-Up with a straw.” He smiled. “Only got a straw when I was sick.” 

“7-Up?” 

“A twentieth-century soft drink. Carbonated. When you were sick, it usually stayed down when nothing else would,” Buck explained. He wished he had one now. 

Wilma wasn’t sure if she still understood what this drink was, but that wasn’t what she was most interested in. “What kind of stories did she read to you?” 

Buck paused, remembering, “There was _Curious George_, and Dr. Seuss.” He paused again, picturing in his mind his mother sitting at his side. “‘I will not eat them on a box, I will not eat them, Mr. Fox. I do not like green eggs and ham, I will not eat them, Sam-I-am’….” Buck smiled at the memory. “Or something like that. She used to get tongue-tied at that one. Appropriately enough, it was called _Green Eggs and Ham_.” ____

_ _ __ _ _

“Green Eggs and Ham?” Wilma repeated. “I didn’t know eggs were green.” 

“They aren’t. At least not on Earth. But they were in the book.” Buck closed his eyes and within a moment, he had fallen back to sleep. 

Wilma took the opportunity to grab a cup of coffee. When she returned, Buck was awake again, and there was nothing reticent in his gratitude at her presence. 

“Hi, beautiful,” he murmured. 

Wilma couldn’t help it. She giggled. 

“Now you tell me your first memory,” he said. 

Wilma thought. What was her first memory? “I remember sitting on my mother’s lap. She was brushing my hair. It was much lighter in those days. And there were pictures of birds dancing on the wall.” 

“Dancing on the wall?” Buck asked. 

“Early holo-projections,” she replied. “There were red ones and blue ones. Some that were brown and red and some that were yellow. I remember telling her I wanted one of the blue ones for a pet. She looked sad and then told me that even if they were not extinct, no one kept bluebirds for pets.” 

Buck was silent for a moment. “That is sad. Brown and red—robins?” 

“I think that’s what she called them. I believe you can still find them in some places.” 

“Good. And cardinals?” 

“Yes, the red ones. There are still some of those, too. But I don’t know about the yellow ones,” Wilma said. 

“Mmmm. Hopefully there are a few finches hiding out west or down south somewhere.” 

“Yes.” 

“I remember getting upset on Saturday mornings when the birds woke me up when I was trying to sleep in,” Buck said. “I guess everything is relative.” He paused and then sighed. 

“Are you all right, Buck? Any pain?” 

He shook his head. “Waiting for the inevitable is hard, especially when you had thought you had everything to live for.” 

“Buck, are you willing to talk to me now? I know why you didn’t want to before, but . . . but I would hope you’d trust me with your feelings, at least some of them.”

“Like you did to me?” When she didn’t say anything, he took a deep breath. “When I was a kid, there was a lady living next door. She had the ugliest little dog I had ever laid eyes on. Can’t even remember if it was a male or female dog. Hair stuck out everywhere, it limped, was bug-eyed, had horrible breath, and it would rather bite you than look at you, but she pampered that dog. She loved that ugly little beast. Gave him all her attention. It had a little coat for when the wind blew in the fall, a heavier one in the winter. When she took it outside and sat on the bench in front of her house, she’d talk to it, pet it, give it treats, kiss it.” He paused, and Wilma took his hand. “I remembered that dog when I was in that hell-hole and was jealous. I would have given anything to have been that dog.” 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

“Don’t be. You only saw the physical when you arrived on Bosk; what happened before the coup was also psychological. I couldn’t stand myself, even as I continued doing the things that kept me alive. I felt weak.”

“This is a medical condition, Buck. Not something you chose to do.”

“Doesn’t matter.” And he tried to explain his feelings when the garox demanded his attention, his feelings when he took a dose. When he finished talking, he was exhausted. Buck fell asleep as Wilma held his hand tightly in hers. 

Twiki trundled in with a package. Dr. Carlock followed and motioned for Wilma to follow him outside the bay. “I have noticed distinct differences in various psychological markers during the last couple of hours you two have been talking.”

“What do you mean?”

“In simpler terms, I am very glad you are here, because when you two were talking, the garox seemed to have a slight bit less of a presence in his neural readings. The package Twiki brought contains some reading material from Dr. Junius. He also insisted in sending up some music. I have a portable comp player for any of the discs you two choose to play. I have always thought that various stimuli from the different senses might help those with addictions….”

“I don’t plan on going anywhere, so if there is anything I can do to help Buck, I will certainly do it. Let me know if you have any specific directions.”

He nodded and left. 

When she returned to the room, she took the package from the ambu-quad. Wilma motioned for Twiki to stay then she opened the package and pulled out several books. 

The covers were worn and warped, the titles indistinct, but the pages inside were intact and one of them had color pictures with the words. She turned the yellowed pages carefully. 

“Sorry, I guess I dozed off. What do you have there?” 

“Some things Dr. Junius sent over. I believe Dr. Carlock asked him to find some books and music. I am going to read some of these and you get to guess what they are,” she teased. 

“I read a lot when I was a kid, but not that much,” he protested. “How about some music first. 

Wilma pulled out several discs. “What in the world is ‘Demo?’ That the name of a singer?”**

“No. Usually a musician did a demonstration tape or disc to sell their song to a company. Go ahead and try it. We might discover new talent,” he said with a laugh. 

She handed the disc to Twiki who slipped it into the player and then they listened to the mellow voice of the musician. 

Oh, my home is in the mountains  
I am free, I am free  
I am one with wind and eagles  
I am free  
Given wings to sail in gracefulness  
The sky, the sky  
Given voice to sing in breathlessness  
I find that I can fly…Fly away

I’ve been a long time on the highway  
I’ve been a long time on the run  
And it gets to be like chaos  
When I'm so long away from home  
And sometimes it's just too much to bear  
And I hide behind my eyes  
I can picture friendly faces  
And I can dream of friendly skies

And I guess that I'm the lucky one  
For the truth of what I know  
For my heart has not denied me  
And I have somewhere to go  
I shall never be a prisoner  
Of steel and glass and stone  
If I leave I will return again  
To my rocky mountain home

Oh, my home is in the mountains  
I am free, I am free

When it ended they sat in silence. Finally, Wilma turned to Buck. “How could someone from five hundred years ago write something that is so close to now? So close to you?”

“I never heard this song before,” Buck murmured. He was astonished at the emotions he had experienced listening to it. It was like the words were speaking to him. 

“So this isn’t from your time?”

“Oh, I recognize the singer, but not the song. Not what I usually listened to during my teenage years, mostly when I grew up, at the academy and later, but Denver hardly ever wrote depressing folk or country music, mostly optimistic, or about nature. . . about freedom in nature. Play it again, would you?” 

**In order to keep this within the Buck Rogers’ universe, the only way Buck could have heard this song would be if someone had found a ‘demo disk’ or demo tape (have to suspend some disbelief). While John Denver wrote and recorded this song in 1980, it wasn’t included in any of his albums until 1998. This was a song that fit the situation of the story and the characters perfectly when I discovered it on You Tube recently.


	5. Chapter 5

Hawk guided his starfighter into the cavernous entrance to the secret world of the Tane-rapanui on Mendalis and then sat quietly for a moment. His thoughts were jumbled and he had to be clear-minded in this quest. It was imperative that he talk Sky Mother into coming to Earth with him. But would she agree to it, and if she did, would the others let her go? Finally, taking several deep breaths, he slid open the canopy and stood up. He felt, rather than saw, the presence of Sky Warrior and he knew he was welcome. _I wonder if that welcome will continue when I make my request_, he thought with wry irony. Stepping to the ground, he walked with more assurance than he felt toward the inner chamber that was the meeting place of this group of his people. There was a certain repugnance in even being in the caves. The time in the mines of Bosk had left their mark on him, one that would take some time to overcome. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Ah, Star Warrior. Welcome, thrice welcome,” Sky Mother greeted him warmly. She took him in her arms and he felt an inner welcome to match that of her voice. Her warm breath on his feathers made him think of Koori, but now was not the time to think of the past. He had a purpose and he would not abandon that purpose. 

“Sky Mother, I am here on a most urgent matter,” he said without preamble. 

“I thought you were, my son,” she murmured, only backing away enough to gaze deeply into his dark eyes. There was silence for perhaps several heartbeats and then she sighed. “It is Buck, is it not?” she asked. “I feel pain in your soul, for him and for yourself.” 

“Have you heard of a drug called garox?” Hawk asked. 

Sky Mother shook her head. “Describe it to me and perhaps I might understand it under another name.” 

Hawk gave a few details of their time in the mines and even more details of the drug and its effect on Buck. 

She mentally shuddered. Indeed, her soul was aware of such possibilities. “I have heard rumors of such things, Star Warrior, but did not know that a drug like that actually existed.” She sighed. “Do you believe I can do the same thing I did when Buck was injured?”

“I was able to help him for a small amount of time when we escaped from the mines. I thought you might be able….” 

“Can you bring him here?” Sky Warrior asked. 

“No, until I suggested coming to you, Buck refused to take any more of the drug. He is only waiting until I return. He is dying. When he does not get more of the drug, the residue of garox in his system is causing his body to rebel and fight against itself. The doctors have tried several things. So far they have only succeeded in delaying the inevitable. When I saw him last, Buck was too ill to travel.” 

“He is on Earth,” Sky Father said, his voice emotionless.

“Yes, he is,” Hawk replied softly. 

“I would need to go to Earth,” Sky Mother said simply.

“No!” Sky Father cried out. “That cannot happen. No! One of our people going to the home that we were once hunted on and eventually forced to flee from?”

“Peace, Sky Father,” Sky Mother said soothingly, her hand touching his cheek lightly. She turned back to Hawk. “Let my mate and I confer in private. Please wait here. I realize the urgency and will not be long with my answer.”

Hawk nodded, bowing slightly as the matriarch turned and left the room. 

Sky Warrior cocked his head and gazed meaningfully at his off-world counterpart. “I think you ask too much this time, Star Warrior. We brought a human into our clan, we learned to make him a part of us, to think that, perhaps there are some redeeming qualities in humans, but this? To take our clan mother, our healer from us. To trust those on Earth to treat her with deference is asking too much. They do not even treat their own land with any kind of deference.” 

“Perhaps this is part of the re-unification, the healing between species that Sky Mother has mentioned in the past,” Hawk suggested. 

“Too much to ask, too soon,” Sky Warrior retorted, but his voice also held a note of understanding. 

Hawk felt an agonizing pain in his heart, but he knew that Sky Warrior was right. It was too much to ask. He remembered how he felt the first time he had gone to Earth on the Searcher. He had watched the blue and brown orb in his view screen with disgust and anger, tinged with curiosity. It was only his loyalty to his new friends then that had allowed him to even fly close to the home of his ancestors’ misery and pain. And when he had first set foot on Earth . . . it had taken a great deal of willpower not to immediately turn, climb into his starfighter and fly back into space. Then he had paused and felt. There was something that stirred his soul. Not just with anger, nor with revulsion, but with something that drew him. It was as though something ancient was calling him, but he didn’t exactly know where to look. Dr. Goodfellow’s Easter Islands? He had not had the chance to check that out, but Hawk had begun to feel the land, feel it in ways that his human friends, who had been born on Earth could not. He smelled, touched and tasted the wind currents, felt the heartbeat of the rocks and earth below him. Hawk was touched by something that he could only best describe as the soul of the land, the auras of those who had lived and died on Earth for millennia. 

Surely Sky Mother, if she could be persuaded to come to Earth, would feel that, too. But he looked at Sky Warrior, thought of the years hidden from hostile eyes, and knew that he had been wrong to come. He looked meaningfully at Sky Warrior, “You are right, I am asking too much. I will leave. I wish to be with my friend when he leaves this realm.” 

“Star Warrior,” Sky Father said softly from the corridor that led to his and Sky Mother’s home. “I will not let Sky Mother come with you to Earth.” 

Even though he knew the answer, Hawk felt compelled to appeal one more time. “Even if I guard her with my life?” 

“No, Star Warrior. I will not let Sky Mother come with you to Earth unless I come with her,” the old patriarch added. 

Hawk said nothing for a moment; his surprise was so complete. Sky Warrior started to say something but Sky Father held up his hand to hold off the younger birdman’s objections. 

“It will be a hard thing to come to the planet where our ancestors were threatened with extinction,” Sky Father continued. 

“Yes, it was for me. But there was something there, something I felt. I hope you feel it, too.” 

“Mainly, I hope we can help Buck,” Sky Mother reminded him. 

“Of course, Sky Mother,” Hawk said, embarrassed. 

“We should go, my son.” 

“Yes, it will be crowded for you both in the back, and it will take some hours, even using the stargates.” 

“It has been many years since I sat in the lap of my beloved mate,” Sky Mother said, a touch of humor in her voice. “Let me get my medicines and we will go.” 

Hawk could only nod, his heart filled with gratitude to Make-Make. 

==================

“How is he doing?” Huer asked. 

“I’m stumped. He received treatment about eighteen hours ago and he should be showing close to normal biological readings, but he’s not.”

“What?”

“I am showing elevated white cell counts, decreased enzyme levels. While I know some humans have been able to go years with garox in their systems, apparently Buck won’t.”

“Why?” Huer remembered Buck saying that he seemed to be having the withdrawal symptoms at shorter increments. Fear squeezed his insides once again.

“Maybe because of the dosage he received in the mines; it was a one dose treats all there. I believe it may also be due to his own physiology.”

“So what helped him with that plague last year is working against him with this,” Huer commented. 

“Yes, with each individual I have treated, there have been differences. That is another issue with this damnable drug. Do you know how long it will be before Hawk returns?”

“Shouldn’t be more than five hours, if he flew in and didn’t take too long on Mendalis.”

“I may have to give Buck another dose before they return.”

Huer knew Buck wouldn’t like that. “I need to go give Wilma some time to get a meal.” 

================

“Let’s see what you have to offer me in the way of the books.” 

“All right. Here goes.” She peered at one page and then turned to another. “‘They loved to be oiled, lying on their backs, their wings spread for balance, curled around her hand as she spread oil on their softer belly hide.’” Wilma looked a bit perplexed. “At first I thought these were birds, but birds have feathers.” 

Buck was thinking intently, trying to ignore the lethargy. It couldn’t have been twenty-four hours yet, but he not only felt the tiredness, but the fever. He felt his hand trembling on the cover. Couldn’t even enjoy possibly his last day. He concentrated on Wilma; what she was reading. It sounded very familiar, but he couldn’t quite figure out where the passage was from. “You’re going to have to give me more than that, Wilma.” 

“‘They hummed with delight at the attention, and when she had finished each one, the creature would stroke her cheek with its small triangular head, the glistening eyes sparkling with brilliant colors.’” 

“I know that; just can’t place a name on it,” Buck said, his brow furrowed in thought. 

“But what are these creatures?” 

“Read on.” 

“‘She was beginning to find . . .’ um, hard to read this word . . . ‘individual traits among her nine charges. The little queen was exactly as she should be: into everything, bossing everyone else, as imperious and demanding as a Sea Holder.’” 

Wilma was even more puzzled. She knew this was fiction, but what kind of creature did the author write about? 

“You apparently didn’t pay attention to the title.” 

“It was faded out and I wanted to be surprised, too.” She gazed at him in amusement. “But you obviously know.” 

“Dragons, or rather fire-lizards. One of the _Dragonriders of Pern_ books. Uh, the one about the girl, what was her name?” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Wilma looked further down the page. “Menolly.” 

“Yeah. Great books, all of them. McCaffrey.” 

“Evidently this is what Dr. Junius called fantasy. There are, or were, no such things as dragons on Earth.” 

“Not fantasy, exactly, but it was vivid enough to stir my imagination. I think that was when that I decided I wanted to fly,” Buck reminisced. 

“And there was more than one of these books about the dragons or lizards?” 

“Yeah. Can’t think of the titles right now. You ought to have Dr. Junius look for the others. But I know you would like this one.” Buck yawned. “It’s about a kick-butt girl.” 

She laughed. “I’ll mark this place to read when you are more awake.” 

“No, try another one first. I like the sound of your voice and it’s kind of fun seeing what I remember. If I fall asleep, you’ll win that round.”

Wilma blushed slightly, but was happy at his better spirits. “Let me try this one. ‘Once there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy….’”

“Narnia. _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. That one really is worth reading. Everyone kicks butt in that one, except the witch.” He grinned and then wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “Another point for me. What’s the next one?”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

There were two others, Buck recognized one, but not the other. He fell asleep after the last one. 

She put in the music disc. “Twiki, keep an eye on Buck for me. I’m going to go grab something to eat.”

Twiki beeped softly as Wilma slipped out. 

She met Dr. Huer in the hallway. “How are you doing, Wilma?”

“I’m all right.” She looked at the ground. “He seems to be getting worse. Buck said he usually had twenty-four hours, but it’s been less than that, hasn’t it?”

“Dr. Carlock said you being here is helping,”

“But that’s not enough, is it? Buck is getting worse, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is. Dr. Carlock said that he may need to give Buck another dose soon.”

“And Hawk?”

“Should be getting here in a few hours.”

Wilma couldn’t hold it back any longer. The tears that had been held carefully in check flowed and she couldn’t stop them. “It’s not fair!”

Huer pulled her close, holding her as he had his own children and let her vent her feelings. “No, Wilma, it is most certainly not fair.” After a while, Wilma regained control and pulled away. Huer handed her a handkerchief.

“Oh, Dr. Huer! I’m sorry. I got your uniform wet.”

“There is absolutely nothing to be sorry about, Wilma. Why don’t you get something to eat and drink? That will allow both of us to be ready to see Buck. In the meantime, he’s in good hands.”

She nodded and left. With a painful sigh, Huer returned to his apartment. Evidence of yesterday’s meal was still sitting on the table. It could continue to wait. He changed and then noticed a communication on his private line. “Huer here.”

“Dr. Huer, this is Hawk.”

“Hawk! How far out are you? Do you have….”

“A few hours out, then we will be there.”

“We? Sky Mother?”

“Yes, Doctor. Tell Buck we will be there soon. And do not let him take any more garox until we arrive.”

“I will, Hawk. I will. And Sky Mother, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

The communication cut off before there was an answer. With renewed hope, Huer dashed out of his apartment. Then he remember the second thing. No dose. Carlock! His steps quickened and he was at the medical section within five minutes. “Where is Dr. Carlock?” he asked a med tech. 

“With Captain Rogers.”

Huer just dashed into the room. Buck was still unconscious, but it was obvious he was in distress. Dr. Carlock had a vial of the drug. “No. Do not give it to him.”

“What?”

“I just heard from Hawk. They are only a few hours away. He has the healer with him and he requested that you not give Buck any more garox until he gets here.”

“You don’t want to cross Sky Mother,” Buck said, opening his eyes, blinking. “Where’s Wilma?”

“I sent her out for a little while. She’ll be back soon.”

“Buck, since you have to wait a while longer, I am going to attach the neural control. I think you’ll be much more comfortable.” 

With that Wilma walked in.

“Do what you need to do, Doctor. I have what I want.”

Wilma blushed, then kissed him. 

=============

When Hawk had settled the pair into the back of his fighter, he carefully eased out of the natural launch bay and then took the ship straight up through the stratosphere and into space. Awed gasps from behind him told Hawk that his passengers, while probably a bit fearful, were still enjoying the spectacle. 

“Are you comfortable enough?” he asked. 

“Yes, Star Warrior,” Sky Mother replied. “It is beautiful. Almost like what I dream flying must have been like for our ancestors.” 

“I hope we can all use the quasi-wings while you are on Earth. I find that even more fulfilling,” he said. “Please be aware that going through a stargate for the first time may make you feel a bit strange, even queasy. I will warn you before we actually enter one.” 

“Thank you, Hawk,” Sky Father murmured. 

In between stargates, the couple dozed as best as they could. Hawk wished there was a way to make them more comfortable, but only speed could do that. He would be low on fuel by the time they got there, but it would be within the time of Buck’s next dose. Hawk glanced back at the couple squeezed in the seat behind. Sky Mother had specified that she had not wanted Buck to have another dose until they reached Earth. 

When they were close enough, he called Dr. Huer on his private communicator and conveyed her wishes. Another two hours and they were approaching Earth. “I am going to contact the Defense Directorate and then we should be able to land.” 

“So this is the home of our ancestors,” Sky Mother said softly. 

“Yes, Sky Mother,” Hawk answered. He worked the controls of his communicator. “New Chicago, this is Hawk, of the exploration vessel, _Searcher_, requesting permission to land, priority status one.” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Hawk, you are cleared to land, hangar four- zero- two. Dr. Huer will meet you and escort you to the medical facility,” a young female voice replied. “Computer coordinates are being sent to you as we speak and the shield has been opened for you.” 

“Thank you, New Chicago.” 

Within minutes, Hawk eased the craft to a landing in the designated berth, gratified to see Dr. Huer and Twiki just beyond the landing bay. He popped the canopy and stepped out of his seat, turning back to help Sky Mother. Dr. Huer approached, Twiki, with Dr. Theopolis just behind him. Gingerly, Sky Mother stepped along the wing of the craft and then waited while Hawk jumped to the ground. She let Hawk help her down. After he had helped Sky Father down, he turned, and found Dr. Huer almost at his shoulder. The human gazed directly into Sky Mother’s eyes, his look one of deference and respect. Hawk was grateful for the doctor’s actions. 

“You must be the healer from Mendalis. Hawk has told me of you,” Huer said. He bowed to her. “Welcome to Earth, Sky Mother.” He turned to Sky Father, his gaze questioning. “And also to you….”

“Dr. Huer, this is Sky Mother’s beloved. His title is Sky Father.” 

Huer bowed to Sky Father. “Please, welcome,” he said formally and then his demeanor changed to one of anxiety. “I . . . uh, I apologize, but if you will come with me, please.” 

“There is no need to apologize, Dr. Huer. We understand the reason for our presence here,” Sky Mother said, reassuringly. “Please, how is Buck?” 

“He has gotten worse. The doctors have gathered a great deal of data, but they do not feel they can analyze and use it in time to save Buck,” he paused, his eyes showing intense anguish. “I hope you can do something for him,” Huer said, then he stopped. He couldn’t say anymore. He turned and led the way down the hall. 

Sky Mother studied the man leading them. She felt his sadness and it augmented her own. Part of that sadness was not just the condition of Buck Rogers; it had to do with the planet as a whole. She felt the anguish of many generations of humans and the pain and anguish of her own ancestors. It was almost overwhelming, but she had to force those things out of her mind. It was imperative to be able to clear her mind to help her clan’s member-by-adoption. As they walked down the corridor, Sky Mother, gazed at the walls, the ceiling and the floor, noting the bright austerity of the passageway. 

Soon they passed through sliding doors and into a room filled with machinery that clicked, whispered and chirped. And she was appalled when she saw Buck. Despite the coolness of the room, his face was drenched with sweat and he was as pale as the bed he was laying on. Wilma Deering was next to him, holding his hand in hers.


	6. Chapter 6

Wilma looked up, and when she saw the group, visibly brightened. “Thank God. You made it! 

Sky Mother walked up to the bed and took Buck’s other hand. Wilma deferentially stepped back. “The treatment…. There is something that is keeping his senses suppressed,” Sky Mother stated. 

“Yes,” another voice said. When Sky Mother and Sky Father looked at him, he went on. “I am Doctor Carlock. I am the physician in charge of Captain Rogers’ care. We purposefully blocked the central nervous system so that the garox would have a lesser effect. It also served to alleviate the captain’s pain.” 

She nodded. “That will have to be undone if I am to do anything for Captain Rogers,” Sky Mother said. 

“But that could be devastating to him. It could kill him,” the doctor said. 

“He is dying anyway,” she said simply. “My beloved and I work with the whole body, Doctor. Captain Rogers has to be able to feel our touch as well as hear our voices. And we have to be able to feel what is happening within his body. That is impossible if the feelings, the messages are suppressed.” She paused and looked down at the sick human. There was something telling her that what Buck contained within him would reveal itself to her if he could only awaken enough to respond to her and Creelis, her beloved. “I think we can overcome the problem of pain, but you will need to do what I have asked, or there is no need for me to do anything but wish Buck a safe journey to the other realm.” 

Doctor Carlock looked at her and then at Dr. Huer. 

The Directorate leader nodded. “Do what they have asked. I have learned there are many kinds of healing.” 

“Very well,” Dr. Carlock said simply. He walked over to a computer and began typing. Then he removed the neural collar. Soon Sky Mother felt the human’s hand trembling and she became aware of his pain, but she became aware of something else as well. This drug did more than cause the user pain. There was something deeper. Something she felt would take all of them to find, including Buck. 

“Sky Father, it is time. Star Warrior, I believe we will need your help as well,” she said, motioning for each of the Tane-rapanui men to come to the bedside. She laid her hands on Buck’s head and concentrated on breaking through the deep sleep that he was in. Hawk and Sky Father each took one of the human’s hands in their own. Beginning softly, she sang the healer’s song of comfort and continued until she saw Buck’s eyes slowly open. 

He blinked several times, and took a shuddering breath. “Sky Mother,” he whispered. “You came.” 

“Yes. I came, as did Sky Father.” 

He looked around, saw the people around his bed and then stared at the ceiling. He bit his lip, trying to suppress the increasing pain. It was too much. He couldn’t deal with it in anymore. This was too soon. It came too hard now. He looked at Wilma, trying with his eyes to get her to understand. “I tried,” Buck whispered. “I really did.” He screamed as red-hot pain lanced through his body. “Fire . . . oh, God! It hurts! Just let….” 

“We are going to try to do more than block the pain, Buck,” Sky Mother said softly, but distinctly, interrupting what she knew he had been about to say. She could not help a patient that had given up. “We are going to look inside and find out why this drug is continuing to affect your body and how it is doing it.” 

Buck shuddered and then gazed deeply into her eyes, saw her concern and determination and nodded. “Sorry . . . don’t mean . . . to be so . . . such a baby.” 

“You are not, my son. You have done very well.” She paused. “You are going to help us. It is very important that you listen closely to everything we say, even the notes of the songs. You must be aware of the touch of our hands. And do not look away from my eyes.” She paused while Buck was trying to assimilate her instructions. “Will you do this?” 

“I . . . I will try.” 

“No, Buck, you will do it. You must do it.” 

He looked again in her eyes; saw belief in his abilities in them. He caught Wilma gazing lovingly at him; saw the same belief. Pain, like waves on the shore, pounded incessantly, but he was able to push it back enough to answer. “Yes, Sky Mother.” He gazed at each of the bird people in turn, even as they were willing the pain away, and whispered, “One request . . . please . . . then do it.” 

Hawk nodded, as did Sky Father. They backed away from the bed. Sky Mother kept one hand on his head, softly singing. 

“Wilma,” Buck beckoned softly. She walked to his side, her eyes tear-filled. He took one hand in his and pulled her closer to him. His other hand reached behind her head, his fingers feeling the soft locks of her hair. He pulled her close to him and then kissed her, long and deep, his lips caressing her and then traveling to her neck, where he not only felt the warmth of her skin, but the life pulse throbbing in tandem to the rapid beating of his own heart. Pain could be ignored, thanks to Sky Mother’s efforts, but Buck knew she couldn’t keep it up forever. He released Wilma and whispered, “I love you.” 

She smiled softly. “I love you, too. You beat this, do you hear me?” 

He nodded, even as Sky Father and Hawk returned to his side. 

“The garox,” Sky Mother began. “It must be administered now in order for us to follow its path through your body. Listen carefully, Buck,” Sky Mother said. “Concentrate on my face, my words, my eyes.” 

Buck said nothing, only doing what he was asked. And as the garox surged relentlessly through his veins, he listened to the cadence of Sky Mother’s voice, to the feel of Hawk’s and Sky Father’s strong grip on his hands. He felt the beat of his own heart, the flow of the drug through his body. He was conscious of a vortex of dark and light, pulling him farther and farther away from that which was familiar. The light grew smaller, while the darkness was like an abyss yawning wide. Buck continued to lock his gaze onto Sky Mother’s eyes, but she seemed to be moving away from him. Still he felt the hands of the Tane-rapanui; still he heard the voices. They echoed as though in a tunnel, the ebb and flow like the booming surf. 

Then something soft broke through the maelstrom. “Go with the garox. Follow it, my son. We will help you back when it is time to return. Go now.” 

And he did, following the dark path into oblivion.

Several chiming alarms went off at the same time and Wilma started. Dr. Carlock, next to her, looked anxious. She reached toward Buck, who appeared lifeless, but was prevented from touching him by Sky Father. 

“He is on a journey; do not interrupt that journey.” He gazed upon her and his eyes softened as he saw the anxiety etched on her face. “Buck Rogers lives, my life mate is keeping the path of his return open. Be ready for that return, because I believe you will be needed.” 

Wilma swallowed hard, staring at the too-still form on the bed. Then she looked up and nodded. Sky Father took up his vigil by Buck’s bed again. Sometime later, Wilma noticed that beside Buck, she was the only human in the room and she could only assume that Dr. Huer and Dr. Carlock were watching by remote. She stepped back and sat down in the chair in the corner, hoping that what the bird people around the bed were doing would bring Buck back to her. 

========================

Garo-tura Aniki awoke to bright sunshine, his beloved’s soft caresses and a splitting headache. He had been told he had been working too hard on his solution to eliminate his people’s enemies. Obsession is what he had been told, actually. But he had ignored the comments and advice, and continued until he had discovered something that was the ultimate revenge on humans. So simple it was, too. But now he was making it even more debilitating and devastating to humans. _The ultimate revenge_, he thought, rubbing his forehead. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

He sat up, gazing at the beauty by his side. Ava-iki smiled at him and her long, slender hands reached for his. Despite the pain of his headache, her touch thrilled him and he smiled back at her. 

“Something troubles you, my love?” she asked. She felt the touch of something other than her husband’s presence and she was troubled, but Ava-iki pushed it aside. Garo-tura had been working on his project too hard; it had consumed him until sometimes she felt she didn’t know this individual beside her. And that frightened her. She wished he would leave the humans to their own devices. From what little she knew, they seemed bent on their own self-destruction. _Let them all destroy themselves. I only want my beloved back. Just like before._ “Stay with me a while this morning.” __

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

Garo-tura gazed at her lovingly. He felt the compulsion to go to the laboratory, but he was tired of it all, too, only wanting this project over. It was almost a love/hate relationship. “Yes, beloved, my ahu-onee, my first and only united,” he whispered in her ear. “I believe my experiments can wait a few hours.” And with that he rose and stretched, feeling little used muscles creak and pull. He even stretched his wings, although the sleeping chamber was almost too small for that. He was conscious of the wing tips brushing the ceiling; he felt their power and exulted in the freedom that the mottled gray, white and brown appendages represented. When he thought of the wingless ones, he felt some revulsion, but mostly he felt pity. To be Rapanui and not know flight had to be a hard thing. That was his next major goal after his present project. To go on an expedition to find his lost kin. Find them and help them on the road to recovery. And to find out why some were born wingless and other were not. 

Looking down, he saw Ava-iki gazing intently at him, her look puzzled. Garo-tura laughed and held out his hand for hers. While not of the royal blood, she was still his princess, his queen, and he was so grateful that she had chosen him after the trials. “Has it been that long since I have flown that it seems so strange to you that I said yes?” he asked. 

She took his hand and stood up, leaning against his chest and feeling the beat of his heart melding with hers. His hand caressed her head feathers and she briefly thought of the time right after their bonding, a magical space in the continuum of life that seemed almost heavenly. “You know my feelings about your project of late, my dearest. But for an instant it seemed as though there was someone else locked away inside of you and it surprised me.” 

“Someone else?” he asked, curious. He had heard of symbiosis among some races, where consenting entities chose to share thought space with another of their species. Garo-tura wondered if that was what Ava-iki meant. He asked her. 

“Yes,” she concurred. “But our people do not do that. There is only the life mate bonding.” She turned away for a moment. 

Garo-tura placed on hand under her chin and turned her face to him once more. “Beloved, it is of no consequence that the bonding gifts are not as powerful in you as in others. You are still my chosen. I would have no other.” 

“But ‘Tura-ani, if we could share without the use of the _iniru-mata_, how much more intimate we would be. How much more special.” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Garo-tura laughed. “If our love making was any more intimate, we would melt in each other’s arms and be the vapors that rise along the sides of the mountains each morning in the cold season.” 

She smiled softly. 

“Here, let me show you,” he suddenly declared, folding his wings around her, drawing her back into their soft krellis down nest. Her moans of pleasure told him that no empathic link was needed. He felt the fire in his body and in his mind. His lips caressed her soft downy skin, found her eager lips. In the cocoon of his wings, Garo-tura found ecstasy and he forgot about the experiments and his consuming desire for the annihilation of humans. There was only one thing and it was the lovely creature pressed against his body. 

Finally, with a soft, musical laugh, Ava-iki pulled away from him. “We are still flying this morning, Garo-tura my love.” 

“But I will be late to the laboratory,” Garo-tura protested mildly. 

“So you will be late to the laboratory. Do you think it will fall down if you are not there on time one morning?” Again Ava-iki laughed and then she jumped up, threw on her flight suit, folded her wings tightly to her back and ran out of the sleeping chamber and to the open balcony. 

Garo-tura knew what she was going to do. While it was not a terribly dangerous maneuver, it could still be tricky. At the last moment, even as she dove off the platform, she unfurled her wings and soared into the early morning sky. 

Garo-tura suddenly felt the urge to look over his shoulder but he dismissed it. He pulled on his own flight suit, smiled and ran after her. However, when he stepped off, he didn’t open his wings, but dove head first toward the lower crags. It was only a scant fifty feet from the rocks when he finally spread his wings part way and then fully opened them to the currents of the wind. As the winds lifted him up, he plucked a mountain flower and soared away and above the cliffs. 

Then he heard a shocked and anxious voice in his head exclaiming something he couldn’t understand. As suddenly as it appeared, the voice was gone, but Garo-tura knew why he had felt as though someone had been looking over his shoulder. And he knew that symbiotic bonding was real. Someone had invaded him. Buy why? He signaled to Ava-iki and then returned to their eyrie where he changed into the lightweight gray clothing of rank that denoted those in the scientific clan. Before Ava-iki returned, he left, wanting to confront the invader in private.

=============================

Buck awoke from a dream where he had married Wilma to find himself making love to a non-human of exquisite beauty. He was startled to realize that she bore a great resemblance to Koori, Hawk’s dead wife. Then he saw the wings that cocooned the both of them and realized that he was not having sex, but that somehow he was within the mind of the birdwoman’s partner. A bizarre sort of out-of-body experience. 

Buck was aware of the birdman’s thoughts, but they were not in terra lingua so he had to work at understanding, and at first only picked up a part of what was going on from the conversation. Most of what he was figuring out was from thought scenes in his host’s mind—and what he was seeing in the recesses of the birdman’s thoughts disturbed him. For the present, though, he was somewhat embarrassed and feeling not a little intrusive. He tried to pay attention to his physical surroundings but that was dictated by what the birdman was focusing on. And it wasn’t the ceiling. 

It was of some advantage that the language the couple was speaking was the Tane-rapanui language that Sky Mother’s people spoke. Or something almost identical to it. Buck quickly began picking up the words and that combined with the thought-pictures of his host was giving him a clearer picture of what was going on. That he had somehow ended up in the mind of the creator of garox seemed apparent to him now. Even during the lovemaking, his host’s mind subconsciously wandered to his work. But how had he ended up here? What kind of power did Sky Mother have? To send his ‘soul’ across time and space was almost beyond belief. He knew garox had been around for at least several centuries so it was possible that he was near the time before his space flight. 

Sky Mother had mentioned something just before he had lost consciousness, something about following the path of the garox. Evidently this was what she must have meant. He had followed the path to the creator. Now all Buck had to do was find out what to do with this opportunity. Garo-tura didn’t seem to be aware of his presence yet, but his wife, Ava-iki, the one who claimed to be less empathic, seemed to feel a bit of his presence. He would have to be careful, and not allow the pair to sense him further. 

It was intriguing to see that some of the bird people had kept or developed wings. He wondered if Sky Mother and the others were able to see what he was seeing and then Buck sincerely hoped not. Regardless, right now, he only felt the thoughts of his birdman host. 

Finally, the birdwoman, Ava-iki, pushed away, pulled on her clothes and dashed down a wide, but short corridor to a balcony. Buck’s host laughed, watching as she leapt from the edge of the balcony, her wings unfurling at the last instant. The birdman’s thoughts were warm and through them Buck learned that Ava-iki was expecting. As his host pulled on his own clothing, Buck thought of what he could have had with Wilma, but before he could project any emotions, he pushed the thoughts aside. So far the birdman still seemed unaware of his presence, and indeed, Buck wasn’t sure if communication with his host was even possible. 

Garo-tura also dashed through the short corridor and like his mate, launched himself into the early morning air. But the wings remained furled and the birdman’s body hurtled toward the rocks below. If Buck had had a physical body, he would be clawing for a handhold somewhere, for all that he had gotten fairly good on quasi-wings. At the last minute his host opened his wings, part way at first and then fully open. So close was he to the rocky face of the mountain that Buck let out an involuntary expletive, one that his host clearly heard. Without a word, the birdman signaled his wife, turned and flew back to the cliff side dwelling he had just jumped from. While wondering what was in store for him, Buck still marveled at the wonder of self-generated flight. He felt Garo-tura’s muscles stretch and tighten, the power in them phenomenal. He saw through eyes that were much sharper than his, he heard the sounds of the wind, Ava-iki calling to him in the distance, even heard creatures rustling in the rocks below. 

The warm morning sun, a golden orb slightly bigger than that which the Earth circled, warmed his back. Buck felt the joy of unfettered living, of existence without the pain of drugs, or the anguish of addiction. However short the time it lasted, Buck was grateful for even this brief moment. 

His host’s thoughts were guarded while he changed into a utilitarian gray-colored outfit and then walked through a large doorway and into a large hewn corridor. The birdman nodded to those who greeted him, but said little. Buck found himself understanding more and more of the language as they walked along. Despite his careful watch of his thoughts, the birdman still couldn’t hold back all of his emotions and Buck knew that anger seethed beneath the surface. Personally, Buck didn’t blame Garo-tura; he’d be pretty irritated, too. But at this juncture, the terran was only a passenger, wondering how long he was going to be on this ride. 

The birdman arrived at his destination, a cavern that appeared to be some kind of laboratory. Garo-tura passed through it, nodding at others he met and then he passed into a smaller, but still spacious room. Closing a plain wooden door, the birdman took a deep breath, knelt down, closed his eyes and then spoke aloud as well as in his mind. “Who are you?” 

_My name is Buck Rogers_. Good, Buck thought to himself. Simple questions first. __

_ __ _

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“Why are you in my mind?” 

Buck gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. _I don’t know_. Not entirely true, but good enough for now. __

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_I am Garo-tura_. No spoken words this time, only thoughts. __

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_I know._

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_You were in my mind during…_? __

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Here Buck had problems with the translation, but a quick mental picture told him what he needed to know. _Sorry._

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Anger again, and disgust along with the anger. 

Buck realized that being in the presence of the creator of the drug, garox afforded him an unparalleled opportunity to figure out its properties, maybe to figure out enough to break the addiction. But he didn’t think that would happen if Garo-tura knew he was sharing minds with a human. Not knowing just exactly what time in the past this was made it more difficult, too. 

_Actually, I do know why I am here_. Not exactly a lie, but…. __

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_Why_? Garo-tura’s thoughts were demanding. Not that he blamed him in this regard either. __

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_The boss was curious about your plan to destroy humans_. __

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Again, the birdman struggled to hide his thoughts. _How did you find out? This was supposed to be secret_. __

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Buck was learning that he had the easier task of hiding his inner thoughts, which was just as well, since he was mentally berating himself for that flub in the air. _Do you think that time is a …limitation … to my visit_? Buck felt Garo-tura’s surprised reaction. __

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_So my creation has success_? Then another quick thought came to his suspicious mind. _What race are you? You are not Tane-rapanui.___

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Without thinking, Buck responded, _Draconian_. Apparently it was the right answer. __

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_Ah, We know of them. They have come to take some of the cat people. They do not bother us. They . . . you do not know of us_. __

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_Wrong. We do_. __

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_Yes, that is true if you are in my mind. Draconians look much like humans_. __

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Buck was getting into this espionage thing. _You are going to hold that against us? And you are right, we do. But that does not make us friends_. Understatement. __

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Garo-tura did some thinking, only part of which Buck was able to pick up. Curiosity was more forefront than resentment or anger now. 

_And your creation has had some success_, Buck added. __

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_Some_? __

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Buck did some quick figuring. _It is very effective on humans. But most humans will stay away from something that addictive. I need information to change it and make it more subtle_.__

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Garo-tura continued to kneel quietly with his eyes closed. Buck imagined that for all practical purposes, the birdman looked like he was meditating. 

_Come, I will show you our experimental rooms. It seems that we have the same things in mind_. __

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_ __ _

Buck didn’t care for the sound of that but there was nothing he could do about it. Garo-tura left the private room and walked through the lab into a room that contained cells much like the ones on Bosk. There were six and in each was a male or female human. One was in the throes of garox withdrawals. Buck had to steel himself against that. It was too close to home and painful for him to watch. One was getting an injection and his gaze was of eager anticipation. The others showed signs of various stages of depression or anger. Buck was particularly interested in one of the females. Somehow she reminded him of Wilma. Dark hair, blue-gray eyes. Again, he had to work at hiding his emotions and thoughts. He kept seeing Wilma in one of those cages. 

Garo-tura looked toward an attending birdman. “How are the experiments coming, Rikieru?” Garo-tura asked. 

“Very well, sir. None of the test subjects can survive now without the modified iniru-mata, and all of them are showing signs of severe psychological manifestations.” 

“Such as?” 

“Depression, rage disorder, psychoses.” 

Garo-tura nodded. 

_How would your people react to such a substance_? Buck asked and then instantly regretted the question. But his host didn’t seem to find anything amiss about his concern. __

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_Are you suggesting that my people would even allow themselves to partake of such a thing_? Garo asked him. __

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_That’s not the issue. The issue is if the Tane-rapanui would develop severe psychological trauma if subjected to something similar_. Buck knew he had to control himself, to stop this line of questioning, but as he continued to watch the young woman through Garo-tura’s eyes, kept seeing Wilma and his anger grew.__


	7. Chapter 7

The woman began showing evidence of withdrawals. She was trembling and her eyes bored into his, pleading. Buck also saw self-loathing in them, and fear and despair. They were mirrors of his own eyes. Anger seethed just below the surface, threatening to displace his careful facade of Draconian scientific interest. 

“How long has the young female gone?” Garo-tura asked. 

“Exactly one solar cycle. Shorter by one half-length from yesterday,” the other birdman said. 

Garo-tura, as well as Buck watched for a while as the girl began exhibiting more signs of withdrawals. Finally, turning away, much to Buck’s relief, the birdman took him through the laboratory, showing off the facilities. Buck tried to identify chemicals, but not only was his expertise not biochemistry, but some of the ingredients were totally foreign to him. Even as he was getting the tour, though, Buck was thinking of the human prisoners, especially the girl. _Where did you get the human prisoners_? he asked. __

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_From Earth, of course. I sent a ship and gathered them quite easily. It was our last ship; well worth the effort_.__

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Buck felt suspicion and he tried to guard his thoughts more carefully. Garo-tura returned to the incarcerated humans and stood watching again. The girl was shaking uncontrollably, alternately pleading and cursing. Her speech, as well as Garo-tura’s comments made him aware that this woman was indeed from his own time. Pre-holocaust. Buck felt empathic despair growing and he didn’t know how long he would be able to control his feelings and thoughts. The young woman cried out in her pain and Buck had to continue watching. Finally the assistant gave her a dosage of garox and she sank into the corner crying in relief and despair. 

Buck tried desperately for control, but knew he hadn’t when Garo-tura ‘spoke’ next. _At least if I was to be violated by a human, I could count pleasure in that human’s discomfort_. __

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The birdman’s thoughts fueled his own anger and frustration. He tried to shove it aside as he answered. _You never answered my previous question, Garo-tura_. Buck felt a bit of surprise in the birdman’s thoughts. __

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_What question_? __

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_The one about how six of your own people would react if they were subjected to something similar_. __

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_My people are strong!! They have been tempered in misery, adversity and pain_! __

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_You think you have the corner on the misery, adversity or pain market_? Buck asked pointedly, trying to reign in his thoughts. __

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_Your people tried to destroy my people. We only survived because we fled_! __

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_And because you’re tough, too. But what gives you the right to seek revenge on people over a millennia removed from the ancestors that committed the crime_? __

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_It is our revenge right_! Garo-tura was trembling and the technician was gazing at him curiously. “Go away! I will deal with the humans.” The tech went quickly. __

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The human woman was now staring at him, too. Her expression was controlled and Buck couldn’t tell what was in her mind, although he could guess. _How would you feel if that was Ava-iki in there_? Buck asked, changing tracks. He felt the intense pain of losing Wilma, as well as all he held dear and close. And the pain was laced with righteous indignation at the one responsible for that loss, the one whose mind he inhabited. __

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_I would kill those who put her there_! The anger inside the birdman’s mind was like a blazing fire and Buck mentally cringed. __

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_Exactly, as would be your right_.__

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_What does my beloved have to do with what humans did to my people_? __

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_Everything and nothing, Garo-tura. You would have right of revenge—justice against those who harmed your beloved. But what kind of revenge is there against those who have no knowledge of a crime_? Buck asked. __

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_That is of no consequence to me, human! Your race did the crime and they will pay_! __

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_I have revenge rights against you, Garo-tura_, Buck said simply. He felt confusion in the birdman’s mind. There was also slight fear, which then became anger and indignation. __

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_Why would you have revenge rights against me? I have done nothing to you_. He gazed at the humans in their cages. _Or is it because of these_? he asked. ____

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Buck could feel the various queries in the birdman’s mind. _No, it is personal. I have no ability to influence you physically or I would make you take a gun and put all of these poor souls out of their misery_, he added bitterly. __

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Garo-tura laughed aloud and the humans in the cage turned their attention to him briefly. He saw fear mixed with a variety of other similar emotions. Make-Make knew how much he loathed humankind and how he had dedicated himself to their destruction. He would rid the galaxy of them and then the ancestral home would be open to the Tane-rapanui. And he had one in his mind. They had to know of the experiments. That would be the only reason that a human from the future was here, now, in his mind. They were trying to obtain his secrets, trying to either prevent him from developing the iniru-mata to infect humans, or to find a way to break it in whatever future the humans had. That it had not annihilated the human race by the time the invader in his mind was born was a blow to him, and strengthened Garo-tura’s resolve to make it more virulent than it already was. But first there was the problem of the human in his mind. Until he could get rid of him…. He could not let this foul parasite get the means to stop him. Even if Garo-tura had to die to get rid of this spy, he would do it.

A younger Tane-rapanui came into the room. “Sir, we are having problems with the experiments in the main lab,” he said, thrusting a chart toward Garo-tura. “There is interaction with the human cell structure, but it will not mutate into something communicable. We feel that such a thing is impossible.”

Buck took in the information in horror. That Garo-tura was creating something plague-like was a new twist in this mystery. He knew the birdman picked up his reactions. Quickly, Buck tried to study the molecular, cellular diagram, cursing his inattentiveness in chemistry class. 

Garo-tura reacted violently, thrusting the chart and his subordinate away. “There is a way! I know it!” Garo-tura shouted. 

Buck saw snippets of formulae coming through his host’s anger, but apparently, the birdman was much more adept at hiding thoughts than he had thought he was. But that Garo-tura knew what he was talking about was very apparent. If such a thing was to be developed…. For something as devastating as garox to be communicable was too horrible for Buck to even totally comprehend. He had to stop the Tane-rapanui from attaining his goals. Already Garo-tura had indicated that he would commit suicide to prevent Buck from learning his secrets. Perhaps that was the key. Buck repeated his previous statement. _I claim revenge rights, Garo-tura. And my revenge is in the flourishing of the human race throughout the galaxy. Your drug has not won. It has taken humans like me, but you have not won. And now I am going to obtain the means to break it_.__

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Garo-tura pushed past the startled assistant and then rushed into the corridor toward his dwelling place. Ava-iki looked up, startled, as he walked toward her. He gathered her in his arms and kissed her. 

Then Buck felt guilt. There had to be another way. But he knew there wasn’t. Garo-tura was obsessed and were he to live and develop that communicable form of garox….

Garo-tura kissed her again and released her. He dashed down the corridor to the balcony and leaped off, Ava-iki’s voice trailing behind him. 

Regardless, it hadn’t happened and Buck didn’t want anyone’s blood on his hands. _Not this way. Garo-tura, the future is already set. You don’t have to do this! Humans and Tane-rapanui can live together. I have seen it. Stop this madness! Soon I will be gone and then you can be alone with Ava-iki_. The ground hurtled toward him. __

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_No, you are going to die with me, human. And that will be my revenge rights on you! Even if only a few humans die from my invention, that is enough. Ava-iki will understand_. __

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It was useless. _Sky Mother, if you’re going to do something, do it now_! Buck cried out in his mind. __

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Garo-tura realized just who Buck was probably referring to and surprise mingled with resolve and anger. Still he plunged, faster and faster. The ground rose up to meet both of them and then Buck knew blackness.

====================================

“Now!” Sky Mother called out urgently. “He must come back now!” She quickly beckoned to Wilma. “Take his hand.” She did as ordered, her eyes anxious. Sky Father laid his hands over those of his beloved. 

Sky Mother closed her eyes and began singing a song of return. “Will him back, Wilma. Call him,” Hawk instructed. Then he, too, closed his eyes and added his voice to that of Sky Mother and Sky Father. They sang and Wilma called, mostly in her mind, but sometimes she found herself calling out loud. She remembered the song she and Buck had listened to and tried to sing some of the words. She held his hand tightly, willing life back into the still form. “Buck Rogers, don’t you dare leave now!”

The singing, the beckoning seemed to go on forever, but finally she felt his fingers flex and then grip her hand before going limp again. Buck murmured something, almost a whisper, and Wilma leaned forward to hear, “…..Better that one man should . . . perish than . . . nation should….”

Sky Mother smiled and then stepped back. “The journey is over. He has returned.”

Wilma was still holding Buck’s hand. His eyes opened and he looked at each person in the room, his gaze lingering on Wilma for a moment. “Need OEI. Think I have something.” There was sadness in the hazel depths and Wilma wondered what had happened. It was to Hawk that he spoke next, though, “I’m sorry.” Then he closed his eyes.

“The knowledge has come a great cost,” Sky Mother whispered. “And great pain.”

“Whose pain?” Hawk asked. 

“Everyone here.”

=============

Hawk watched the OEI images in stunned silence. That one of his people had caused so much torment appalled him. He felt shame that only a scant two years ago, he would have probably admired this Tane-rapanui. There were momentary feelings of jealously that Buck knew what it felt like to fly with wings. Sky Mother softly sang the song of sadness. 

Buck sat unmoving, his eyes closed. Dr. Carlock went over to the terran, checking him. Hawk quietly got up and walked from the room. Sky Mother and Sky Father accompanied him. “They will more than likely ask for more translation of some of that. I would not blame you if you said no,” Hawk said. “I would not blame you if you wanted to return to Mendalis now.”

“What makes you sad, my son?” Sky Mother asked. 

Somehow, Hawk felt she already knew what was bothering him, but it was hard for him to put his feelings into words and he said so.

She nodded. “Is it the fact that your friend helped, even in a small way, in the death of one of our own people?” she asked. “One who dearly loved his wife?”

“Or that there are more of our people; Tane-rapanui who have winged flight?” Sky Father prompted. 

“Buck is like a brother to me,” Hawk began. “But I cannot deny that I am envious. He, a human, knows the feel of real flight.”

Sky Mother said nothing, only laying her hand on the warrior’s arm. 

“And yes, I felt anger at his goading of Garo-tura,” Hawk added. “Even though I realize what this kinsman of ours was doing to Buck’s people.”

“And there is shame that our own would do such a thing?”

“I felt warring emotions,” Hawk said. “I understood Garo-tura’s hate.”

“Yes, I know, Star Warrior. We have all felt that hate. It has eaten up our people for centuries,” Sky Mother said. 

“What is to be done about it?” Hawk asked. He felt as though the emotions were choking his heart. “We cannot forget the past as apparently the humans have done.”

“No, we do not forget our past, but somehow we must rise above it and forge a future,” Sky Father said gently. “Do you doubt what you have already done?”

“Do you mean among humans?” Hawk asked. “No, I do not, but sometimes it is hard. And sometimes it is lonely. There have been times when my heart has been a rock in the powerful currents of the ocean, being buffeted and shaped by those who do not know me or feel what is in my soul.”

“Even though there were those in that ocean who have truly wanted to be your friends.” Sky Mother looked deeply into Hawk’s dark eyes.

“Even though,” he admitted. “And when I found you and your people, it was as though my heart had burst out of the rock and was flying above that turbulent ocean.” He smiled softly. “It was a very hard decision to leave Mendalis.”

“I know,” Sky Mother said.

“But I am glad I did. Otherwise I might never have known that there are others of our people out there.”

“And your staying with your human friends served a purpose, as well,” Sky Mother said with a slight smile.

Hawk remembered the escape and his journey toward the Searcher. “Yes.” He thought back on the OEI. “Still, it was painful seeing others of our kind and knowing I could not contact them.”

“As it was for me, Hawk,” Sky Mother said gently. “But knowing they are there makes the searching more meaningful and the finding sweeter.”

“Do you think they can be found?” Hawk asked hopefully. 

“Yes, I see a future of unification among our peoples, but it will not be easy. It will take great effort,” Sky Mother said. 

“How will we find them? I could not see or hear enough to make any sense of where these kin of ours could be.”

“I think there are clues that our brother-by-adoption can put together and make sense of.” She looked back toward the medical room where Buck lay. “I think we should be with our friend. He was not unscathed by this journey.”

===================

When the Tane-rapanui went back into the room, Buck was laying quietly on his bed. This time the noise level was greatly reduced, most of the machines having been unhooked and moved out of the room. Wilma saw them and nodded. She kissed Buck lightly on the cheek and left the room. Buck gazed at the trio for a few minutes without saying anything. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“I am sorry, too,” Sky Mother said, laying her hand upon his arm. “I am sorry that hate forged so long ago has resulted in so much pain.” 

“He was going to mutate the garox,” Buck said. “I couldn’t let him do that.” He paused and shook his head. “It was confusing, realizing I was back in time, wondering what I could do and not do to change the future—our present.” 

“I know,” Sky Mother said. “You only did what you had to do.” 

“I am not sure but I think that the time Garo-tura lived was about the time I lived back in the twentieth century. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to develop something like this garox for people that had just almost completely blown themselves up.” Buck shook his head. 

“I cannot help but wonder where these people are now,” Sky Mother said. 

“They would still be there,” Hawk said definitively. “But where would that be?” 

“I agree, Hawk and I think the clues to their whereabouts are up here somewhere, but I just can’t think straight right now,” Buck said pointing to his head. 

“It would be good to find these brothers of ours,” Sky Father said. 

“If you do, let me be at the end of the welcoming line, not up front. If they still feel the same way, they wouldn’t be terribly happy to see me,” Buck replied with a wry smile. 

“Yes, I believe you have a new understanding of how hard it is to heal old wounds,” Sky Mother said. 

“Yeah, but not like you,” Buck said quietly. “Humans simply forgot, your people have had to live with the past. You have been refugees. You have not been allowed to forget.” Having felt Garo-tura’s thoughts and emotions, Buck was even more keenly aware of how much Hawk had had to change his mind-set in order to live on the Searcher. His admiration for his friend, as well as the other Tane-rapanui in the room grew by leaps and bounds. 

Hawk stood silently for a while and then smiled ironically. “But even though humans do not remember, there is apparently some ingrained racial feeling of prejudice and hatred.” 

“Hawk, some people hate anything or anyone they don’t understand. I’m not sure that’s a racial memory more than upbringing,” Buck pointed out. 

“Perhaps,” Hawk replied, not totally convinced. 

Buck turned his attention to Sky Mother. “You can never know how grateful I am that you came to help me. Especially here.” 

Sky Mother smiled softly, but said nothing. Sky Father held her close as he spoke. “It was difficult to come and if it had been just my decision, I would not have made the journey. I am not as brave as my beloved.” He paused a beat. “But you are part of us now. Sky Mother’s dreams did not show us your death, they have continued to show visions of reunification and life for my people.” 

Buck nodded. “Thanks,” he murmured. “But I wonder if you’re placing too much hope on me.” He took a deep breath. “I mean….” 

“I do not question what I see in my capacity as Sky Mother,” the old birdwoman said. “And we do not pin hopes on just you. Life and history are the blending of events and people. You and Star Warrior are the main players in what I am seeing, but so much weaves together to form the total tapestry of destiny.” She gazed at him meaningfully. “My dreams tell of hope and promise. They do not tell how that will happen, only that you,” she pointed to Buck. “And you,” she pointed to Hawk, “are part of that future.” 

“That’s still a lot to put on a person’s shoulders,” Buck said.

Wilma came back into the room. “Is there something you three would like me to have sent up here for you to eat or drink?” They shook their heads. She stood next to Buck, taking his hand in hers. 

Laughing softly, Sky Mother asked Buck, “Someone who has come from so far doubts his role in these things?” 

Buck laughed with her, but stopped when Dr. Carlock walked in the room. He looked expectantly at the doctor. 

“You have given us some very hopeful data, Captain Rogers. I think we might have what we need to break this, but it will take a while.” 

“A while?” 

“A few days, I hope,” Carlock answered. “Are you willing to stick with us for that long?” 

Buck pondered, then nodded. “I suppose I can hang on for a few days.” He looked penitent as he gazed at Sky Mother. “You came all the way here. I . . . uh, if I hadn’t been so….” 

“Stubborn?” Wilma ventured. She had returned with Dr. Carlock.

“Well, yeah, maybe.” He looked around for understanding. “But I couldn’t deal with it anymore. That hasn’t changed. I would rather die than live with this.” He looked meaningfully at Sky Mother and Sky Father. “But if I had been well enough, I could have flown to Mendalis, or you could have flown to Bosk.”

“Perhaps,” was all Sky Mother would say, although her eyes held understanding. “But on the other hand, would all of the information the doctor now has been available if you had been on the prison planet or at our home? I think Make-Make wanted this to happen here.” 

“I have to agree,” Dr. Carlock added. “If Buck hadn’t come when he did, he would have died. That was how aggressive the garox had become in his system. Even taking the doses, the intervals had shortened, the symptoms of withdrawal had become stronger. The garox was shutting down his body.”

“That’s why I felt so bad yesterday, even before the time for my dosage.” He yawned. Sky Mother copied him.

Sky Father looked at her in concern and saw how tired she was. The healing had taken a great deal out of her. 

Wilma saw it, too. “I have an apartment here in New Chicago you two are welcome to stay in,” she offered. 

“And perhaps you three would like to see your ancestral home,” Buck suggested. “If it isn’t too painful for you.” He gazed meaningfully at Hawk. 

“Rapanui?” Sky Father asked in surprise. “Humans know the place of our first exile?” 

“That is where you gathered before your exodus, isn’t it? Dr. Goodfellow deduced it was Easter Island based on what is there, and what he found on Throm, as well as all the research he has done.” 

“After you are well, I think it would be good to visit our ancient home,” Sky Mother said before turning to Wilma. “I thank you for your offer. I would like to rest now.” She gazed at the two birdmen. “You need to rest as well.” 

“There’s room in my apartment for all of you to sleep comfortably,” Wilma said. With a last squeeze to Buck’s hand, she led the three Tane-rapanui out of the room and to her apartment.

“Doc?”

“Yes, Buck.”

“Do you really think you have the answer? We’re not just grasping here?”

“I really think we have what we need. What these birdpeople did pointed me on the right path. I have left one monitor hooked up and will be taking periodic samples, but I think that you are already feeling better because they broke the one catalyst that caused the garox to have such a strong hold on your body.”

“They are amazing people.” Buck yawned. 

“You get some rest, too. I’ll keep you posted on my progress. And yes, they are.”


	8. Chapter 8

Buck slept most of the day and was still tired when he woke up, but his mind felt clearer than it had any time in the recent past. Wilma was not on the cot that had been brought in and he hoped she was sacked out somewhere much more comfortable. Some things hadn’t changed a great deal. 

“Hi, ya, boss!” Twiki chirped. “About time you woke up.”

“Hi, Twiki. Sorry you got ignored yesterday.”

“No problem, Buck. Been babysitting you most of the day. Wilma is sleeping in your apartment. Dr. Huer insisted she get some sleep.”

“Babysitting? Come on, Twiki. Isn’t that just a little extreme?”

Twiki beeped. “No.”

Buck sat up—no dizziness. Gazed at his hands—no trembling. And Buck felt not the slightest compulsion to ask about the garox. He wondered was time it was—breakfast, lunch or dinner, and that amazed him as well. 

“How are you today, Buck?” Dr. Huer breezed into his room. 

“I was just thinking about you, Doc. Actually, I feel tired and hungry, not necessarily in that order.”

“Good! Do you want some good news?”

“Of course. The last six months haven’t been that great, so go ahead.”

“Dr. Carlock can explain it better. He said he’d be in in a minute.”

“Uh, Doctor Huer, don’t give me a sample of the pie, give me the entire thing.”

Dr. Carlock was almost as breezy as Huer as he strode in. He had a porta-comp in his hands. “First of all, any desire for the drug?”

“Nope.” 

“Great! That confirms what I thought this morning. The garox has no hold on you anymore.”

“You found an antidote?”

“Really isn’t an antidote….”

“Huh, what are you saying? I wasn’t addicted?”

“Of course you were addicted. What made this drug so insidious and so hard to treat was that the creator put a type of enzyme in it that bonded with anyone having human genes. It allowed all of the other properties of garox to take hold of the victim and eventually kill them. It took a while to decipher that chart you saw, but I compared his notes with yours and other’s samples. When I knew what to look for, I found the enzyme in all samples and in the garox samples I had obtained.”

“So you had to get rid of this enzyme. How did you do it?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet.”

“Wait a minute. You said I was rid of it, but you haven’t gotten that far yet?” Buck was confused. Then it dawned on him. “Sky Mother.”

“Yes, she broke the bond.”

“How is she? Besides amazing, that is.”

“They have been resting all day. I imagine that took a great deal out of her.”

“All of this is still hard to wrap my head around. So now your job is to find something that will break the bond of that garox enzyme because a birdwoman healer can’t go around the galaxy curing garox addiction.”

“Yes, but I think I’m close.”

“Something else I wondered was why some humans got this in the mines and others didn’t.”

“It has to do with the genes. There are humans who have the genes of other humanoid species in their genetic make-up.”

Buck felt a light bulb go off. “Garo-tura experimented with humans from my own time, pulled from earth just before the holocaust. He developed the garox for their geno-type.”

“Yes, Buck,” Huer said. “And you were the closest to what the scientist developed the garox for.”

“You were addicted by the second dose. They wouldn’t have needed the parasite excuse to continue….” Carlock shook his head. “That’s why now, some humans with the addiction are more resistant to it and others aren’t.”

“You are going to send your findings out to Bosk, aren’t you? Dr. Burrows would love to know what’s going on.” 

“When I have the enzyme buster. Right now I’m going to send my findings and copies of all my notes to Dr. Goodfellow. He may say he’s absent-minded, but he’s still one sharp cookie when it comes to solving scientific mysteries and he might be able to take what I have and figure out that enzyme buster.”

“He would love a mystery like that,” Buck concurred. “I’ll tell you what scares the hell out of me the most.”

“What’s that?”

“That someone might get the idea that they can do the same thing to specific groups of aliens. Some of Kormand’s boys are still out there.”

“That’s why I am trying to keep this fairly low key.”

“That doesn’t bother me at all, just as long as the doctors get it to cure their patients.”

“And in the meantime, Captain Rogers,” Carlock announced officially. “You need to start getting up and moving around. It’s going to take a little while for the residue of the drug to totally dissipate, so you’ll be stiff, sore, and tired for at least the next couple of weeks. Garox had you for more than four months, your body is going to take a while to totally get over it.”

“I think I can deal with that, knowing there is a future.” He felt a bit of euphoria at that pronouncement. “When’s breakfast?”

“Actually it’s dinnertime,” Huer said, “and I thought I would have dinner in my apartment, inviting your friends from Mendalis, as well as Wilma and Hawk.”

“Terrific!” He glanced at Carlock, wishing he could join his friends, but the good doctor shook his head. 

“Well, if you have left-overs, I wouldn’t mind a doggy bag.”

“Doggy bag?” Huer asked, then laughed. “Whatever that is, I will make sure to have dinner sent to you.”

=============================

A week later, the group of two humans and three Tane-rapanui stood on the shores of a land that felt older than antiquity. The slopes were guarded by stone-faced visages that had stared out to sea for centuries. Their features were weathered, but stark in their simplicity. Some of the statues stared at the sky, having fallen from their upright position, but they held a dignity that was ageless. Birdpeople and humans alike stood and stared without saying anything. Finally, Hawk began climbing up the slope, followed by Sky Mother and Sky Father. 

Buck continued to lean against the shuttle, Wilma by his side. He still felt a little shaky and weak from his ordeal. Doctor Carlock had been able to develop an enzymatic solution that broke the hold of the garox for anyone else addicted. That information had been disseminated to Dr. Burrows and other doctors who had been dealing with garox addictions and the solution was being mass produced by Directorate labs. Now Buck just gazed around, fascinated, wishing he had more strength to explore. 

“Amazing,” Wilma breathed. 

Buck nodded, then pushed away from the shuttle, slowly walking after his friends. He caught up with them partway up the slope, where they stood next to a statue that towered above them. 

“Do you not feel the soul cries of thousands who once called this home?” Sky Mother asked as her fingers lightly caressed the stone visage next to her. Her companion nodded. She felt the brief and fleeting visions of the ancestors, some still winged, and others, who, like herself, were wingless. She felt their presence, felt their pain and hope. 

Sky Mother saw the visitors, those beings from the stars, winged like some of her ancestors, their stick-like, dark features, round sky-blue eyes expressive in sympathy. They helped the first star warriors build the ships. She watched the ships flash skyward and disappear into the dark void. She watched until there was nothing left except the stone watchers, Make-Make’s silent sentinels. 

Buck simply stood quietly; taking in deep breaths of salty air and slowly letting them back out. Wilma, as before, stood beside him, one arm entwined in his, her eyes clouded with worry. He gazed at her and smiled softly. Leaning over, he kissed her lightly in reassurance and then reached forward to touch the stone visage. He jerked his hand back when he felt what seemed to be an almost electric-like jolt, then slowly, Buck reached back out and lightly touched the statue again. It felt cool and yet warm. He looked up and met Sky Father and Sky Mother’s eyes. Hawk had continued walking up the slope. 

“There were few and yet so many,” Sky Mother murmured. “There are more of us out there. If only we could find each other.” 

Buck continued to let his fingers stroke the pitted visage. He marveled at the ingenuity of Hawk’s ancestors, that they could build such statues so very long ago. Then he remembered his time in Garo-tura’s mind and the reference to the Draconians and others on his planet. Buck remembered a passing reference that Tigerman had made about bird people and suddenly he knew where Garo-tura’s descendants lived. He pulled his hand away from the statue but continued to see the images from his recent ordeal. 

“Buck, are you all right?” Wilma asked, her voice filled with worry. 

Bringing his focus back to those standing near him, Buck found that Sky Mother and Sky Father were studying him as well. “I’m okay. I was just remembering.” 

“What were you remembering?” Sky Father prompted. 

“I think I know where you can find more of the Tane-rapanui. Garo-tura’s people.” Even as he spoke, Buck was seeing Ava-iki’s puzzled and troubled look as her husband kissed her good-bye for the last time. 

Sky Mother nodded, but said nothing. 

“It was something Garo-tura said.” The sea breeze blew up the slope while sparse clouds floated slowly across the horizon. “There was something Tigerman said, too.” Buck looked upward watching the wisps overhead. “I believe we need to contact Ardala and Tigerman,” he said. Gazing meaningfully at Sky Mother, he added, “Tanui-me dono ali maka ii.” 

She nodded, knowing that it would be difficult. Continuing in her own language, she replied, “They will still harbor hate.” 

“And still have wings,” Buck responded, guessing at Hawk’s feelings about his time in Garo-tura’s mind. 

Wilma looked from one individual to another, not having the slightest idea of what was being said, but knowing it was of some import. 

Sky Mother looked at the human woman, then reached out and took her hand. “We were talking about how difficult contact with these people would be.”

“And I assume you feel you should go to this eyrie?” Wilma asked.

“Yes,” Buck said simply. “I think I should.”

“And I think it’s too soon. I think you have been in too many dangerous situations, some that almost killed you. I don’t think you should go to a place where we know they would want to kill us.” Wilma studied Buck. She saw determination, but also some doubt. “You seem to have picked up the language rather well. Before we go someplace where they don’t know terra lingua, I would like some language lessons. 

Sky Mother nodded and then asked Wilma. “And you wish to be part of this? It could be very dangerous.” 

Her left hand was entwined in Buck’s fingers. “Wherever Buck goes, at least in the short term, I’m going. These forced separations have been horrible.” 

“I haven’t liked ‘em much, either,” Buck said with a wry smile, then he sobered quickly. “But it will be dangerous,” he said. 

Wilma snorted in mock derision. “So what else is new? If it’s going to be that dangerous, then you don’t need to go.” 

Buck felt a strange fear wrap itself around his heart. He began to protest. 

“No, Buck, not this time. We do it together or neither of us goes,” she said decisively. “And personally, what you’ve been through, I think you’re deserving of a nice long vacation.” 

Buck sighed. There was a part of him that only wanted to find a warm beach somewhere and hibernate there for a season or two or three. “I have to finish this, Wilma. When I was part of Garo-tura’s mind, I was part of something that I’m not proud of and I want to try and rectify it if I can.” 

Wilma touched his face with one finger. “Buck, you prevented a horrible future.” 

“How do we really know that?” he asked. “Nothing changed.” 

“It was there on the OEI,” Wilma argued. “He was trying to develop a contagious, self-replicating virus,” Wilma argued. 

“But we don’t know that it could have been,” Buck countered. “And Ava-iki lost her beloved.” 

Sky Mother stopped them with a gesture. “It is of no use now to discuss what could or might have been. Personally, my inner feelings are that Buck stopped something catastrophic, but I have not been shown verification of that.” The tangy, salt air ruffled her head feathers and caused her cloak to flutter lightly. “Buck, I know you have dreamed.” She would say no more. There was reason for Buck Rogers’ continued role in all of this. The dreams didn’t tell her exactly what it was, but she saw him with the Tane-rapanui. 

“I want to learn the language,” Wilma stated decisively. 

Sky Mother heard the finality of her human counterpart’s answer and smiled. “Your fiancé had the fortune to have been in the mind of one of our people. That obviously made picking up the language easier for him.” 

Wilma nodded, not wanting to dispute Sky Mother’s designation of hers and Buck’s relationship. She gazed up at Hawk’s retreating form. She had noticed a sort of moodiness in her friend of late and wondered what was bothering him. She also noticed Buck’s worried look as he stared in the same direction. That it had to do with Buck’s garox-induced trip was a given, but it was something he and Hawk had to work out on their own so she said nothing on that subject. Instead, she chose to be more general in her comments, feeling the rightness of what she was saying, but still somewhat fearing the future all the same. “It will be all right, Buck. We’ve been in pretty tight situations before and come through all right.” 

Buck nodded, but didn’t look very convinced. “But I wish you’d consider staying behind for this.” 

Her look was one that didn’t need any accompanying words. 

===============

Buck was flying, diving from heights he had only achieved in a spacecraft. The dizzying freefall was at once exhilarating and frightening. He tried to unfurl his wings but it was as though they were stuck to his back. 

Then, suddenly, Wilma was at his side, reaching out for his hand. “Buck, what’s wrong? Why are you doing this?” 

He tried to reach out, touch her fingertips, but he couldn’t. The ground hurtled toward him, closer and closer. “I’m sorry,” he called out and then as the ground rose to meet him, Buck awoke. The breeze caressed the sweat on his forehead, and brought to his ears the crackling sound of a small wood-burning fire. Rising up on one elbow, Buck peered into the darkness, trying to see beyond the flames. Guessing it was Hawk, Buck extricated himself from his sleeping bag and stood up. Gazing overhead, he saw the Southern Cross winking brightly. They had camped on the inner slopes of Rano Raraku, a dormant volcano where the ancient moai had been quarried. Buck pulled on his jacket and walked to the fire. The slight sound of someone walking away came to his ears. “Hawk, wait. We need to talk.” 

The footsteps stopped. 

“Hawk,” Buck repeated. 

The birdman returned to the fire and stood quietly, saying nothing. 

Buck sat down on the rough sand. “Hawk, I’m sorry. I really am. I wish there had been some other way, but I couldn’t think of anything.” Hawk moved closer, but although Buck felt he knew his friend well by now, the face across from him was unreadable. 

“I cannot deny my feelings of anger.” 

“For what it’s worth, Hawk, I would feel the same way if it had been any entity, but it’s worse because I was the reason for the death of one of your own people.” 

“I am not angry with you. What you did was necessary for the future of your race. What Garo-tura did; how he was doing it—was wrong. It does hurt slightly that you . . . were . . . a part of his death. But that is only part of it.” 

Buck said nothing. What Hawk said was true, but Buck could not get the surprised and shocked face of Ava-iki out of his mind. He had felt Garo-tura’s thoughts and his emotions and his deep passions. No matter, also, that the Tane-rapanui had tried to hide them, Buck had felt them in a way he had not experienced before. And he felt guilty. 

Hawk sat down on a large rock across the fire from him but said nothing for a moment. The flames of the fire, though small, still danced their reflection across the prone figures of several moai. “Buck, I am not angry with you,” he repeated. “I understand. I, too, felt a necessity to kill my enemy. My reasoning was vengeance against the annihilation of my people. Yours was an action to save those of your race.” He leaned forward. “Who am I to say whose motive is better or less? All I know is that I feel pain in what happened so long ago.”

“As do I,” Buck said. 

“And that kind of pain does not go away quickly,” Hawk added. 

Buck nodded and they both sat looking at the fire for a while. It reminded him somewhat of the time they had spent on Janovus’ planet, and yet it was different. Before was the semi-awkwardness of deepening friendships. Now there was a barrier of hurt. Then something Hawk had said passed through his remembrance. “You said that was part of why you were angry. What’s the other reason?” he asked.


	9. Chapter 9

For several moments Hawk didn’t answer and Buck began to think that perhaps he had offended his friend. 

“There is a part of our history that has been obscured over the years. Up to now, I had only told you small bits of the history of our people,” he began. “Whether the history is totally true, I do not know. Many hundreds, even thousands of years ago, we were a people with wings. We lived in the mountains of a large land filled with sky and sun. It was so high that it was said a Tane-rapanui could fly to heaven from that place.” He paused. “Dr. Goodfellow believes that refers to the Andes Mountains. All I know is that we were free and the sky was our home. We played in the sky; we hunted from the skies. We were one with the air currents. We were companions to the winged giants of the peaks, knowing their language and sharing their songs.” 

Buck wondered about the “giants.” Were they the giant condors? He said nothing though, simply letting Hawk tell the story. 

“Then humans came, making their homes on the high plains that had been our hunting and growing lands. We attempted friendship and for a while there was peaceful coexistence. We shared the lands of our antiquity. Then something happened. Legend says the humans became jealous of our wings, wanting them for themselves. They wanted to mate with our people—that perhaps their children would be blessed with the ability to fly, but such did not happen.” 

Buck wondered at the detail of Hawk’s narrative, knowing that his friend had told him once that he only knew generalities, the details of which were in the realm of mythology. Could this have come from Sky Mother or from the influence of this island, as it seemed to have done with him? But again he didn’t say anything, waiting for Hawk to continue. It could be as simple as not wishing to tell the full history to those once considered enemies. 

“First, it didn’t happen because our people would not willingly intermingle. So a few humans kidnapped some of our women, clipped their wings so they could not fly and then mated with them. Some of the captives threw themselves from the cliffs. Those that did not, carried mixed seed in their bodies, producing children who were neither one race or the other. These were the miru-moruku, the cursed ones and they were rejected by the humans, being wingless.” 

Hawk sighed, as though the telling was painful, and indeed, as Buck understood the implications, he could see why. But still he said nothing. 

“That began the era of distrust, anger and fear. More of our people were taken. Our young men and children were stolen by clever groups of humans, who still hoped to produce winged progeny. Finally, we chose to leave our lofty home. The humans were ever more numerous and more aggressive. Our people reproduced more slowly and in fewer numbers. No matter where we went, though, still the humans came and finally we retreated to the isles of the sea. The miru-moruku were welcome, and considered a part of the Tane-rapanui, but there was still unhappiness. The winged ones were superior, having as they did, the means of total freedom of the skies. The miru-moruku wished for that which they could not have. Never were their children able to inherit the wings of their grandparents.” 

“Did any of the miru-moruku intermingle with their winged relatives?” Buck asked. 

“Yes, some did, but that which gave wings was denied them, even several generations later.” Hawk paused again, then took a deep breath. “Still, there was peace for some time until the seafarers came.” 

“Humans, too?” 

“Yes, more humans and these were even more aggressive, who only saw us as enemies taking up the land we were on or as children of their devil deities. And they were still jealous of our wings but now they knew they could never have them.” Hawk stopped talking for a few minutes, stirring up the fire with a bit of driftwood. Finally, he began again. “So then began the holocaust of our people. The pureblooded were hunted and killed. We retreated to ever more remote islands. There were those who believed that without the wings we would be left alone. The miru-moruku were not hunted with the same vigor as the winged ones. In many places they were left alone, although I suspect it was a fearful peace. And they bred with the miru-moruku to achieve that purpose. Some doctors were able to achieve the same result with expectant pureblooded of my people.” 

“But there came a time when the winged people left, disappeared to an even more remote place, only telling a few of the healers the clues of their whereabouts. Many years passed. The miru-moruku considered themselves Tane-rapanui, keeping the customs, language and beliefs of their disappeared brethren. Finally, the day came when even the miru-moruku were oppressed. The land was scarce, the people too much in abundance and the humans wanted even the magic land to which the pureblooded Tane-rapanui had fled. They still wanted what their ancient stories told them existed—flight.”

Buck sighed, wanting to dispute his friend’s story; the aggressiveness of his own race. It was a curse and a blessing, Buck thought. It was something that kept his people progressing, even bettering themselves; and yet it was a curse in that it caused untold heartache from wars and conflict. 

“Just before the great conflict where our people, the miru-moruku, never half so numerous as our human neighbors, would most likely be slaughtered, they set out in large canoes. What they didn’t have room for, they left. What was most important was the saving of the Tane-rapanui. The songs of my people celebrate as well as mourn that journey,” Hawk said. He smiled softly. “Until recently, it was believed that this was a mythological allegory to our journey to the stars, but it was only a precursor.” He sighed. “It is said that many died, but because the old storytellers had passed down the secret place of their brethren, they finally reached Rapanui. There they found the winged people building monstrous starships from technology given them by star voyagers. Our people knew that if they did not leave the planet they would eventually be totally destroyed.” 

“The miru-moruku were offered the same choice and they took it, working side by side on the ships that would give them freedom.” He paused. “The history says that all who wished to go did so. There were few who stayed. But because they had lived apart so long, the miru-moruku chose to sail on their own ships, leaving last after the others had gone.” 

“This is an even harder story than what you have told me before, Hawk. If it’s too painful….” 

“No, Buck, you have been in the mind of one of the winged ancestors. It is necessary to tell you this. And it helps to explain the reason for my anger.” 

Buck simply nodded. 

“And the story is more complete because Sky Father recited the history to me,” Hawk further explained. “And it became clearer after coming here.” He gazed deeply into Buck’s eyes. “I dreamed earlier tonight. I dreamed after your journey to find the cure for the garox.” 

“I have dreamed, too,” Buck murmured. 

“We flew among the stars, for the most part losing track of each other, although some ships did stay together for the first part of the journey. When our group found Throm there were no humans then. We built our homes, we kept our culture and we remembered, although indistinctly because shortly after our people settled our planet our history teller died before all the history could be passed along.” 

“Didn’t you have written records?” 

“Yes, but the histories we refused to record in writing. And our people, even with written records, were still a people who enjoyed the oral traditions.” Hawk stirred up the fire again. “So we simply remembered that our long ago ancestors had been winged, relegating the half lost truths to demented myth. Those remembrances became our dreams, because somehow we knew there was no hope of ever being winged ourselves.” 

“Because your genes were tainted,” Buck added, saying what he knew was so difficult, almost impossible for his friend to say. 

Hawk nodded. “Yes.” He was grateful that Buck had put it in the same terms that he had felt when he had suspected the truth and then had finally found out. Indeed, it was the same term that Sky Father had used when he had been reciting the history after they had arrived on Rapanui. 

“And that’s why it was so hard for you to watch the OEI?” 

“Yes,” Hawk repeated. “It was hard enough to have lived with the old myths, almost never spoken, except in whispers, vehemently denied, that there was human blood in our people’s ancestry, but to hear it from a speaker of history, and see what our ancestors were all like was almost more than I could bear.” 

Buck gazed intently at his friend, then he got up and sat closer to Hawk. The Tane-rapanui didn’t move. “Hawk, I know this past year and a half has been hard for you. I know sometimes I have made it harder, and I’m sorry that helping me brought you so much anger and pain.” 

“Do not ever think that I regret helping you. Even if I had known everything that would have happened in advance, still I would have gone to get Sky Mother. And even though you belong to the race that I have hated for so long, you are a brother in spirit.” He paused and laid the small piece of driftwood on the tiny campfire. They both watched silently as it caught fire and blazed up. “How did it feel flying freely?” Hawk asked hesitantly, plaintively. 

Buck paused. He had wondered, after his experience, if that had been part of Hawk’s frustration—the fact that he, a human, had experienced free flight. Buck felt he could only answer honestly. “It scared the hell out of me more than anything, at first. It was such a brief time and I think most of the time I was feeling Garo-tura’s perceptions.” He paused. “I think the idea of just having wings added power.” Buck gazed at Hawk. “Am I making sense?”

Hawk nodded. “You are making perfect sense. In my dreams I have felt the power of wings propelling me through the sky. The feeling of using muscles that I never use now.” 

“Exactly.” 

Frowning, Hawk said, “Buck, I do not think you should go with us to find the others.” 

“I have to, Hawk. I caused the death of one of their own.” 

“You only did that which you found necessary in the situation you found yourself in. They would not understand that, though.” 

Buck sighed. “I feel I have to. If nothing else than to show them that not all humans are horrible sadistic creatures.”

“He speaks truth,” a soft voice said in the darkness. It was Sky Mother. Both men stood in deference and offered her a stone ‘seat.’ “But do not make this decision lightly because Hawk’s concerns are very real. It will be very . . . dangerous for a human. Us they pity, you they hate.” 

“I know. I felt it and there has been about five hundred years for that hate to fester,” Buck replied. 

“Or to temper,” Sky Mother added. 

“If only I could convince Wilma to stay behind,” Buck mused aloud. He looked up at Sky Mother. “Could you talk to her?” 

The bird woman nodded. “Yes, but her determination is as immovable as these stone moai.” 

Buck sighed. “Right now I plan on going. All I ask is that you let me know anything that would help me in dealing with your people.” He looked directly at Sky Mother. “Anything you see in your dreams. Whatever.” 

“I will, Star Warrior companion,” she assured him. She lightly touched a finger to his arm before she rose to her feet. “Now it is time that we rested. My dreams are stronger here. Our history is here and I wish to absorb as much as I can of this ancestral place.” She gazed up at a nearly full moon. “I can see our ancestors flying up through the sky in their majestic ships, silhouetted against a moon such as that. I can see such a moon hanging over another place. One that way.” Sky Mother pointed toward the east. 

“Chile,” Buck murmured, remembering what Hawk had said about tall mountain peaks. 

“I know your ship is leaving Earth soon but before we leave, my beloved and I would like to see the place of our first antiquity, Ta-make-make, the home of God.” 

“But we don’t know exactly where that is,” Buck protested. “Chile was a long, mountainous country.” 

“Perhaps when the time comes we will know.” 

As he got up, Buck smiled. “Knowing you, I don’t doubt it.”

============

Sky Mother felt the movement of the stars in her dreams. They dipped and swooped like frenzied birds, then they calmed to wheel in a majestic waltz. She watched, mesmerized and then she gasped in surprise as a bright, swollen moon rose above a jagged horizon of mountain peaks. It continued to rise and with it rose some of the ancestors, their wings spread as though catching the bright rays of the rising moon. The ancestors flitted and cavorted, sometimes alone and other times synchronized in small groups like aerial dancers. It was beautiful and it almost made her cry with joy. 

The moon continued to rise, its brightness muted as it broke from the grasp of the mountains. After it had traveled through the sky, the mountains began to become more distinct and then gold touched their tips. A bright yellow sun emerged from its hiding in the east. The night flyers retreated, replaced by other flyers—these female. They flew in a spiral dance of joy, greeting the sun. As she seemed to get closer and closer, Sky Mother saw their faces lit with joy, glowing with more than the early morning sun and she ached with longing. Suddenly she realized that she was flying among them, the wings on her back beating a powerful cadence, matching that of other flyers. 

Sky Mother caught a thermal and was lifted above her companions. This was more vivid than any dream she had ever had. This was what the ancestors experienced and now she was sharing that experience. She flew high and then she folded her wings and dived. When Sky Mother was within a hundred feet of the entrance to a large cavern, she banked. The opening greatly resembled the one of her home and that heartened her. A few of the males returned to the sky, some of them in their clothing of rank, Sky Warriors watching and making sure nothing happened to their females. That, too, heartened her. That so many of the ancient customs had remained was a comfort to her. 

Sky Mother gazed around her at the splendid waterfall, looked below at the blue ribbon of water that was a river far below. The mountains were rugged, but tenacious, deep green vegetation clung to the rocks, watered by the mists of the waterfall. Some of the mist rose to meet her and she enjoyed the feel of it against her skin. Steam from a semi-reposed volcano nearby, each crag and peak, the deep blue sky—Sky Mother felt she would never forget these sights. Her heart ached with a fierce desire to actually be one with these people. 

She banked again and flew toward the cavern opening. It did not seem to lead into caves such as she was used to, but it seemed to simply be a place of gathering, a place of joy. Sky Mother landed easily and shared greetings with those who were already there. Her joy was short lived, however, when several Sky Warriors flew in, their faces somber, almost to despair. “It comes!” they cried. 

“What?” several of the women asked. 

They pointed and when Sky Mother turned with the rest, the sun hit her full in the face, awakening her. Looking around, the birdwoman saw the sides of the dormant volcano rise around her, the silent moai standing sentinel. She sat up and looked around her. Seabirds called to each other in the heights above her, down by the lake, Buck was fixing something for them to eat on a portable stove. He looked up and waved. She returned his greeting. Her beloved sat next to her, his dark eyes showing love and concern at the same time. 

“You have dreamed?” he asked. 

“Yes, and it was beautiful,” she replied, describing her dream. 

Later in the day a small shuttle from the Searcher landed on the beach. To the surprise of both Buck and Wilma, who had been swimming in the ocean, the admiral stepped out. 

“I wonder if he’s still irritated over my resignation,” Buck pondered aloud. He remembered that he had only received a get-well message from Asimov since the submission of his resignation papers. 

“He stuck it in his drawer,” Wilma replied softly. 

“I am beginning to think that I am going to have to run my ship alone,” Asimov boomed as he approached the pair. He waved to Hawk, who was with Sky Mother and Sky Father examining petroglyphs in the heights, then he turned his gaze back to Buck. “You do realize that you are still on Directorate payroll, don’t you?” 

“Am I?” Buck asked. “I thought the circumstances would have forced you to accept it.” 

“Maybe if I had directed my attention to it, but I didn’t. And no one called my bluff. Glad I didn’t, then I’d have to go through the aggravation of putting you back on my rosters. Of course you are still part of the Directorate and my crew.” 

“At the time, I had hoped you would, Admiral,” Buck replied. “I was in no way able to command or to even function on board the Searcher.” 

“Perhaps not in a purely command capacity, Buck, but the idea that you couldn’t function on my ship in a useful capacity is a bunch of bull and you know it,” the admiral declared passionately. “Hell, you planned an escape and planned and executed an insurrection almost totally alone. 

“An act of desperation,” Buck said tersely. 

“No, the act of a leader. You are incredibly resourceful and capable, even under horrendous circumstances. I think you give yourself a great deal less credit than everyone else does.” 

Buck’s expression softened. “Thanks, Admiral. I appreciate your sentiments, but I really couldn’t have come back then. Not even in a limited capacity.” 

The admiral nodded, sitting down on a large rock. He watched the water roll in and splash the soles of his boots. He pulled them and his socks off and relaxed with a sigh. “Regardless, I’m glad I didn’t act on your request.” He pulled a paper out of his pocket and handed it to Buck. “Can I assume that you would like the honors of tearing this up?” He laughed softly. “Because at this point, I would refuse the request anyway.” 

Buck gazed ruefully at the paper he had sent to the admiral seemingly so long ago. When he had done what he had been asked to do, he said, “Admiral, I know you didn’t come here just to say ‘hi.’ What’s on your mind?”

“The hearing.” Asimov studied both of his exo’s carefully. “Erik Kormand’s hearing has been postponed as much as it can be and only the fact that his organization has kept the two principal witnesses from participating has allowed this much delay.” 

Wilma sighed and Buck laid his hand on hers. “We need to put this character away,” he said. “And then someone needs to find LeeGrand and put him away, too.” 

“Yes, but first things first. I would like you, Wilma, Dr. Goodfellow, and Dr. Theopolis to go to Cronis and testify against Kormand. I would ask Hawk to go, too, but that would be awkward with two of his people here. He can record a deposition or testify via communicator, as I will.” 

“When?” Buck asked. 

“Hearing begins in two days,” Asimov said apologetically. “You two haven’t checked in for the past few days and someone has been leaving the communicator off.” 

The younger man just shrugged and grinned. “It’s been a nice respite and I figured that even if I wasn’t Government Issue, Wilma was and she needed the rest, too.” 

Asimov just shook his head and sighed. 

“Hey, my mind has been elsewhere,” Buck added, giving a sideways glance at Wilma. 

Now the admiral grinned and turned to Wilma. “He asked yet?” 

Clearly embarrassed, Buck protested. “Now wait a minute, Admiral! That’s not fair. You’ll know when….” 

“No, Admiral,” Wilma answered matter-of-factly. “But in this case, I have to agree with Buck. Everyone will know when it happens.” She smiled. “Ron still running the betting pool?” 

“Yes, he’s had to modify the specifications though. It was a bit awkward when Buck and Hawk were kidnapped and then later when Buck didn’t show up.” He cleared his throat. “By the way, a great many people know why you didn’t come back after we arrived at Bosk, and before you get upset, lots of reports were gathered from the mines. Which is more reliable than scuttlebutt.”

“Great,” Buck muttered.

“Actually, it’s made you more of a hero to the junior officers. That was quite an accomplishment, helping to find something to break the garox. It’s been a seemingly untreatable headache for years.”

“Still wish there was a way to totally eradicate it,” Buck said and since there was nothing anyone could add to that sentiment, they all sat quietly watching the waves roll in to shore.


	10. Chapter 10

Asimov relaxed on the beach while his two executive officers cleaned up their campsite and talked to the birdpeople. It amazed him that in this short time, another group of Hawk’s people had been located. Buck hinted that there were more. But then that was the primary purpose of _Searcher_. Hawk followed Wilma and Buck back down to the beach. It concerned the admiral that Buck was out of breath by the time the sleeping bags had been stowed. Of course, Dr. Carlock had said that recovery would be slow for a couple of weeks.__

__

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“I will come with you to _Searcher_ and make my deposition there,” Hawk told him. “Even though I know that what Buck and Wilma say will have much greater impact than anything I can say.”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Everything together, Hawk. If it doesn’t help in one trial, then it certainly will in the others.” 

“Sky Mother and Sky Father will be safe here until I return.” 

The two Tane-rapanui nodded. “We are learning so much,” the woman said. She turned to Buck and Wilma. “You two will be watched over and what you do at this trial will benefit all who wish to live together in peace.” She placed a hand on Buck’s cheek and another on Wilma’s. “We are all of one heart, even if not of one blood. We look for your return.” She turned to Asimov. “We also look forward to visiting your ship, Admiral.”

“And you will be most welcome aboard _Searcher_,” he said with a bow. The order for a scientific mission to a world in the Draconian Empire had been given utmost priority and was to be taken as soon after the trial as possible, but he still had little information about it. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Pre-checks done, Admiral. We’re ready to go,” a young pilot, Jeene Trenow, Buck remembered, told them. “And welcome aboard, Colonel Deering and Captain Rogers. So glad you’re feeling better, Captain.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.” Buck caught his second wind and climbed aboard the shuttle, taking little time to sit down and get the safety harness on. Wilma sat on one side and when Hawk came aboard, sat on the other. The admiral rode with the pilot.

“I will want you to tell me what happens at Flagg’s trial. That will give me great satisfaction for him to be incarcerated.”

“He will be, Hawk,” Buck assured his friend. “And hopefully, there will be a bit of closure in that.” 

Hawk nodded. “Yes. Perhaps this is why I was allowed to live.”

“That’s only part of the reason, Hawk.” Buck smiled softly and closed his eyes as the shuttle took off and slid spaceward, back toward home. And this time he was looking forward to it.

It didn’t take long, since _Searcher_ was in high orbit between Earth and the moon. Wilma leaned over and nudged Buck awake. She still worried about him, but knew that the sojourn on Easter Island had been good for him. And Hawk. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Did I fall asleep?”

“It would seem so, by the sounds,” Hawk replied. 

Wilma had to struggle to keep a straight face. 

“What?” Buck felt his face flush with embarrassment. 

Wilma decided to save him. “Yes, you fell asleep, but you slept very quietly.”

Buck glared at Hawk, who remained inscrutable. 

“You are on the road to recovery, so I felt the need to play a trick on you.”

“A joke, Hawk. A joke. And I’ll think of an appropriate response. Sometime.”

“I would like that.”

“Shall we disembark?” the admiral asked. “The reception committee awaits.”

“Reception committee?”

“Not my idea, Buck. And it’s for all of you.” 

With a sigh, Buck stepped out into the landing bay and felt as though they were being met by half of the ship's complement. 

“Welcome back, Captain Rogers,” one of them said. “Colonel.” Wilma was acknowledged almost as an afterthought. 

“Thanks, Billy,” Buck replied. That went on most of the way to the bridge and it was with a sigh of relief that Buck watched the doors slide open. 

But his relief was short lived. The bridge crew had even arranged a small party in the admiral’s ready room. Buck felt embarrassed by all the attention even as he was warmed by his shipmates’ thoughtfulness. 

“Smile and enjoy it, Buck,” Wilma muttered under her breath. 

=======

Buck was glad for the larger starfighter. It allowed for him to sit next to Wilma, share piloting duties and, if they so desired, to talk on a private channel. Twiki, Theo, and Dr. Goodfellow were in the back. The admiral and Hawk had already sent their depositions. He still couldn’t help but wonder at his friend being willing to discuss a case that totally involved humans with humans, but he had. Hawk would explore the mountains of Chilè with Sky Mother and Sky Father while he and the others were on Cronis. He hoped it wouldn’t take the same length of time that trials took back in his day.

It was poetic justice that Erik Kormand was still in jail after LeeGrand had boasted he would be out by now. And LeeGrand was on the run, hunted. Garrott and Flagg were in jail as well, none of them having access to anything except their lawyers for the past month and a half. Buck was still nervous about the trial. He knew Wilma was even more nervous, considering what Kormand had done to her on Mendalis. 

Strangely, the prosecuting lawyer had told him last night that he would be a surprise witness. Surprise for whom, he wondered? He had been told since before his and Hawk’s kidnapping that he would testify. Mainly because he had spent a couple of weeks in the Human Rights leader’s compound. He figured this surprise was somehow linked to his time on Bosk. About the garox. He figured addicts were considered as unreliable these days as they had been in his day. Drawing in a deep breath, Buck let it out slowly.

“Buck, you all right?” 

“Sure. Right as rain and ready to do this and get back home.”

“I know what you mean. So am I. They told us to come in to the main landing bay and they will take us to the court chambers.”

“And no chatter after the final stargate.”

“Yes. And before you ask, I don’t know why they are so tight-lipped about this. They didn’t tell me anything either.”

He tugged at his collar. “Except to wear our dress blues. Make a grand appearance. Maybe we’ll be in and out. Better than anything in my time.”

“Don’t gripe. You look very handsome in your uniform, Buck.”

“And you knock ‘em dead in yours, Wilma. Any of them.” 

That elicited a chuckle from Dr. Goodfellow. 

“How are you doing, Doc?”

“Just fine, my boy, just fine.”

“It won’t be that much longer,” Theo said from the back.

They flew into a hangar that was enormous. Buck eased back the canopy and climbed down. “Come on, Twiki.”

“I’ll get the quads, Captain,” a young tech said from his shoulder. 

Although it irritated him, Buck accepted the help. He hadn’t fully recovered his strength, yet, evidenced by his little nap on the shuttle yesterday.

“Captain Rogers?” another voice queried. 

Buck turned and saw a tall, thin man approaching. From the insignia, he guessed this was someone from the judiciary. _The prosecuting attorney_? He seemed rather young. “Yes, and you are?”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Torrince Kray, junior prosecuting attorney. I am assisting Brad Santiago, the head prosecutor.”

“Glad to meet you, Mr. Kray. You the welcoming committee?”

“Yes, sir. For you. I am to take you directly to the chambers. It won’t be long before you will be witnessing.”

“The court system has come a long way since I was younger,” Buck murmured. Aloud, he said, “Can you tell me why I am considered a surprise witness?”

“Because for a while, you couldn’t be found, then it was believed that you would not be allowed to testify, then that you were too ill or on the brink of death.” Kray looked him up and down. 

“Rumors of my death have been highly exaggerated,” he laughed. “What about Theo, Wilma, and Dr. Goodfellow?” He noticed Wilma watching him. He gave her a thumbs up and she smiled.

“Another assistant will escort them into chambers. They had already been expected.”

Buck followed the young man, pulling on the bottom of his jacket and making sure his collar was even. He didn’t have to worry about the uniform fitting; in fact it was a little too big, something that Dr. Huer had been doing his best to rectify. 

Kray placed his palm against a door plate and waited until it turned green. “Captain, would you do the same?”

Buck did and the door slid open to reveal a fairly large room. The judges’ table was as he had seen several times on vid cameras, but the entire room was much bigger than he expected. 

“If you would sit over there, Captain.”

“And not with my shipmates?”

“Only temporarily, Captain Rogers. And I believe that when you are called to testify, there will be some fireworks from the defense council. Just wait patiently. Mr. Santiago had been updated to the time you left Earth to come here.”

_Great! The whole galaxy is privy to that nightmare_, Buck thought. Kray moved on up to the prosecutor stand. He noticed Erik Kormand on one side of the room at a table with several other people. He probably had enlisted all the lawyers money could buy. He hadn’t sat long enough to even get comfortable before his name was called from the prosecutor’s stand. He stood and was motioned forward. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Just as Kray had said, the defense attorney jumped up, objecting to his presence. Buck recognized the witness stand and stepped up into it, waiting. 

“This is not a reputable witness and cannot be allowed to testify!” the defense repeated.

Buck quirked a slight smile. He had been called disreputable many times, usually by the fathers of his dates. He said nothing and plastered a stoic visage on his face. 

“This man was a witness to many of Kormand’s activities on Mendalis and was even held within the accused’s compound,” Santiago declared. 

“And since when has a garox-addicted human been allowed to testify?” the defense council snapped back. 

There it was. Buck leaned forward to what he believed was the local equivalent of a microphone. “May I answer that, Your Honor?”

The head of the judiciary nodded. “Yes, Captain Rogers, but only after you have been truth-sworn. And any defense objections to this witness testifying are overruled.”

In slightly different words than he was used to, Buck was sworn in. 

“Captain William Anthony Rogers, or should I say President William Anthony Rogers of the Bosk free government of New United States?” the older judge addressed him. 

They were well informed, if not a couple of weeks behind the times. “The captain part is still correct, Your Honor. The President part is not. Barney Brock is the President of the New United States of Bosk. I resigned that position three weeks ago.”

The judge smiled. “But he hasn’t accepted it yet. So technically, you have a duel role, Mr. President.” 

Barney hadn’t accepted his resignation? How the hell was he going to deal with that? 

Buck could tell the judge knew perfectly well what had happened. Even more than he had. From the expressions on the faces of the defense, they did not know any of this.

“You may respond to the defense’s objection now, Captain.” 

“Thank you, sir.” He took a deep breath. “I will not be addressing the background details as to what the defense has accused me of. That is a related, but different trial. I will only say that, yes, I was garox addicted, certainly not by any decision of my own. However, I am not under the influence, nor am I addicted at the present time. If the defense would like to take a blood sample, I would have no objections.”

“That’s impossible!” the defense council shouted. 

“No, it’s not. Not anymore,” Buck said softly. “Not when a dedicated medical team busts their butts to save me. And by so doing can hopefully accomplish the same thing for all the prisoners on Bosk and other hell-holes where garox is freely used.” Buck was gratified to see Kormand’s stunned expression. 

“I most certainly want that blood test.” Then Kormand’s lawyer sat down, equally stymied. 

There was a recess while the medical team took a blood sample. Buck was paranoid enough that he checked the identification of all the med staff that had congregated in the room. The two lawyers also attended as well as a member of the judiciary. It became a circus. As Buck knew it would, the result was negative, with slight past markers. 

So he testified, telling what happened during that nightmare on Mendalis, leaving out little except the details of his visit with Sky Mother’s people. Then it was Wilma’s turn and he smiled his reassurance. As she told her story, she added details that she hadn’t revealed to him; details that spiked his desire to shove his fist in Erik Kormand’s face. Then the defense had the gall to declare that it was consensual sex. Wilma consented to an OEI exam in closed chambers. Kray sat by him during this time. Buck figured the prosecution didn’t want him making a spectacle of himself. When Wilma was done, Buck had gathered her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder in a secluded room until she had gained control of herself. Right now his only worry was for Wilma. 

To Buck’s surprise, the trial only lasted three days. Even Sreena, Kormand’s sister, testified, adding some juicy bits, especially about Drishell. Dr. Theopolis gave his two cents and Dr. Goodfellow gave his one cent. While the judges deliberated their verdict on the fourth day, Buck sat in on Garrott’s, Flagg’s, and other confederates’ trials. Wilma joined him because she and a few others had the details of what he had only suspected. A Galactic Council agent gave his testimony and Buck was astonished at the legwork that he, Wilma, and others had done to find him and Hawk. Buck suspected Ardala had done a great deal of her own legwork to locate Tigerman, too. Wonders never ceased. 

Near the end of the ordeal, Buck and Wilma sat together holding hands. At times he could feel her trembling and he held her close. When he had finished his testimony of his and Hawk’s kidnapping and time on Bosk, and the garox, she was his comfort. 

At the beginning of the fifth day, all participants were gathered back into the judiciary room. The head judge stood, repeated the crimes against Erik Kormand and then declared their judgment. “Guilty of all crimes brought before this court. The sentence we have decided on is….”

“Your Honor,” Buck called, then stood. “May I be allowed to speak before you pronounce the sentence?”

The lesser judges looked surprised, but the head judiciary did not. “Captain, we all know how eloquent you can be, however, this is highly irregular and unorthodox.”

“In my time, Your Honor, the victims were allowed to speak at the sentencing phase of a trial. They could express opinions that were out of the realm of testimony during the actual trial. They could express how they felt.”

“And I am expecting you are feeling that the prisoner should be executed?”

“Of course, I am feeling that, sir. However, I want to tell you why Erik Kormand should not be executed.” There was a gasp among those in the judiciary chambers. 

“I would like to hear the captain’s argument,” one of the judges said. 

The head judge nodded. “Just be as brief as you can be, Captain.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Buck took a deep breath to calm his nerves. “If you kill Kormand, you create a martyr. Back in the twentieth century, a couple of decades before I was born, there was a man named Adolf Hitler. He, too, believed that his people were superior and that other races including blacks and Jews were inferior. He tried to force his ideologies on the rest of the world. He murdered more than five million people in concentration camps because they were different. They weren’t “pure.” Despite the fact that his armies were defeated and that he met a violent end, he became someone for future generations, including Kormand, to look up to. By killing Erik Kormand, you legitimize his ideology. The only way to destroy this philosophy is for people, for all sentient entities, to realize that one being is no better or worse than another simply because they look different or their genes are different. Teach the young ones to have empathy—to be kind and understanding. Teach them that peace is better than killing. That a birdman is deserving of as much consideration as a full-blooded human. 

“And consider that there aren’t that many of those around anymore.” Buck paused and smiled at Erik Kormand. “By the way, Erik, while I was recuperating, I studied some genealogy. Yours specifically. Checked the DNA results. Did you know there is half percent Rigellian and another one percent Resuvian in your blood-line? Hitler had the same problem. One of his ancestors was Jewish. I guess if we wanted to compare degrees of humanness, I would be at the top of the heap. The purest human in the quadrant, but I don’t give a damn. Why? Because I would rather see what’s inside a person than outside.” He really wanted to add something like, _I would dearly love to suggest that you be put in a hole like I was, but that wouldn’t be practicing what I just preached, so I won’t_. Buck tried to think of something else, but he was tired. Bone-tired and only wanted to go home. “Sorry, Your Honors. I’m done.” Buck sat down. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Wilma squeezed his hand. “You sure you didn’t have some kind of training as a council?” she whispered.

“Heaven forbid!” he whispered back. 

The judiciary huddled for a few moments. Then the head judiciary stood again. “Captain Rogers, you have again impressed us with your eloquence. Believe it or not, several of us are of the same opinion as you are, but the crimes were so heinous we felt the only sentence should be death. As evidenced by what happened to you and Hawk on Bosk, we know that imprisonment doesn’t negate power.” He put his shawl back on his head. “Still, it is the decision of this judiciary that the prisoner, Erik Kormand, be sentenced to life in prison, solely solitary, with no human interaction and under carefully monitored conditions. There will be no appeal, and no parole as the sentence is more lenient than the accused deserves. This court is at an end.”

Kormand jumped up. “I will have my revenge, Rogers!”

Buck stood up with a grim smile. “Take your best shot, Kormand. I survived Bosk, so what can you do to top that?” He turned away. “Let’s go. Can’t stand to breathe the same air,” he said quietly to Wilma.

She shuddered. “I agree.”

They left, Kormand’s epitaphs ringing in their ears. And in the days that followed, Kormand’s lieutenants folded in a similar manner and were given similar sentences. Eight days after they had arrived, it was over. Even to Mic Froligen having been arrested and charged. 

Brad Santiago came to their group, smiling broadly. “We are having something of a celebratory party this evening. Could your group stay that long?”

Buck was ready to head back now, but he wasn’t sure if they’d have to let Twiki fly or not. 

Wilma saved him. She looked as tired as he figured he felt. “Thank you, Mr. Santiago. Maybe for a little while. We needed to get some relaxation and then sleep before heading back anyway.”

“I thank you. It was your testimonies that totally blew Kormand’s defense out of the water.”

“You mean the rest wouldn’t have been enough?”

“It probably was enough to get him prison time, a long prison time, but now he is incognito and most of his compatriots have been captured. Now we need to strive to do what you suggested, Captain Rogers." 

And Buck realized what he needed to do as well. His determination to go with the exploration party to Rrilling was the right decision. Not an easy one, but the right one. 

End of _Dance with the West Wind_. See what happens next in _Freedom’s Wings_____


End file.
